Yesterday's Terrors
by Carolyn Carey
Summary: In an alternate universe Janeway and the Voyager crew have been sent to the Badlands to capture Chakotay's Maquis cell, but the mission doesn't go quite as planned and the crew find themselves imprisioned in a secret Maquis hideout.
1. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 1

**Yesterday's Terrors**

_© Carolyn Carey 1998_

**Disclaimer:**  
Star Trek is the property of Paramount. I do not stake claim to the characters in this story nor do I make a profit.

**Note**  
This story is set around the timeline of the Star Trek Voyager episode "Caretaker", however the story is set is an alternate universe and therefore does not tie in with cannon. If you're looking to find the Janeway & Chakotay of the television series, you're probably in the wrong place.

**Summary:**  
Three universes to the left of our Captain Kathryn Janeway and the crew of the U.S.S Voyager have been sent on a mission to capture a notorious Maquis cell and their leader, Chakotay. But things don't go quite as they're supposed to, and the crew find themselves imprisoned in a secret Maquis hideout.

**Rating:  
**PG-13

  


‡

Chapter 1 

_Stardate 48307.5, Three Universes To The Left Of Ours..._

_Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 48307.5_

_Voyager is finally ready to embark on her first mission. We have orders to find a notorious Maquis cell in the Badlands, a region of space plagued by treacherous plasma storms. Although I have counted the days up to this moment in anticipation of Voyager's first official run, I can't help feeling a little on edge. Maybe it's simply the excitement of my first mission in command of this incredible vessel, or maybe my gut is trying to tell me something.... so far it's never let me down. I have this nagging feeling that something terrible is going to happen to us. I guess I'm a little paranoid about having a 'criminal' onboard. Tom Paris may be Owen's son, but I don't trust him...after all, his own father doesn't trust him, so why should I? Why, indeed, does Starfleet still trust him? I have voiced my objections concerning this matter to Starfleet Command on several occasions, but they are quite determined to send him along. I guess I'll just have to get on with it and hope that my gut is for once misguiding me. In any case, it's too late now to do anything about it. Maybe it's just me. I've been feeling a little off course for the past few weeks, since Mark and I broke up. I suppose I feel a little lost. My routine has been interrupted, and I'm still not used to the way things are now. I knew, we couldn't go on the way we had been -- the constant arguments about the missions I'm sent on... Every time I leave earth he wants me to leave Starfleet and marry him -- but Starfleet is my life. For as long as I've lived I've wanted to travel the stars. I'm not ready to settle down. Maybe I'll never be ready. _

_I'm sure a little distance from home, and the things and people that are constant reminders of our years together, will do me good. I still haven't achieved a sense of closure. I miss him, I still love him, but I can't live with him anymore. It's time to move on, and I'll be doing exactly that in the very near future. _

_Voyager will depart from Deep Space 9 as soon as we get clearance. _

No sooner had she finished the entry into her personal log, a message from Starfleet Command was put through to her desktop computer, and Voyager was cleared for departure from Deep Space Nine.

Captain Kathryn Janeway rose from the seat behind the desk in her ready room and stepped energetically through the doors onto the bridge. She had spend the past few days welcoming each and every single member of her new crew as they arrived from all corners of Federation space.

"Captain on the bridge!" her new first officer, Commander Geoffrey Cavit, announced in the age-old tradition. Everyone rose and stood to attention, waiting for their captain's next move. The air was tingling with excitement. Kathryn Janeway sat down in her Captain's chair, attempting to portray an air of calmness and non-chalance.

"Engage!" she ordered, barely able to conceal in her voice the excitement and pride she felt. She was extremely proud of having been entrusted with the command of this brand new starship, a prototype, and had spend the past few month familiarizing herself with Voyager's new systems. Now her expertise with them could probably rival the skills of her chief engineer.

The U.S.S.Voyager featured a revolutionary new design, in which traditional optical processors had been replaced with bio-neural circuitry. She was a sleek looking ship, comprising of fifteen decks, with a crew compliment of one hundred and forty-one. The ship was capable of sustaining a cruising velocity of warp factor 9.975 and sported 38 photon torpedoes. Janeway was thrilled to be in command of this unique new vessel, her ship!

Of course Voyager was not really her ship, but she liked to think of it that way. She had fallen in love with it, could feel its heartbeat, as if the ship were alive. And in a way it was. Its computer, after all, ran on bio matter. But it was more than that. To Janeway, Voyager was like a sentient being with a heart and a soul - a heart and a soul that she knew inside out.

Her crew, however, was a different story. She still had to get to know them.

Her first officer, Commander Cavit, was still a complete mystery to her. Starfleet Command had insisted on his assignment as her second in command on account of his experience with the Maquis. He had already been a participant in several missions against them and was therefore accustomed to a number of their tricks and maneuvers.

It was never easy for a captain to establish a smooth working relationship with a new first officer, but Janeway could usually tell instantly if their was any chance at all for the development of such a rapport. A certain chemistry had to be present between the two parties concerned in order to establish a good working relationship, an interconnection, and she detected no such thing between Cavit and herself. At first glance, he had struck her as a little arrogant. She had attributed this to the fact that he had never before served under a female captain. Well, he would just have to get accustomed to it. But then, later, whilst studying his Starfleet records, she had been more than a little surprised to find that he never seemed to stay with the same captain for longer than the duration of a single mission. He was changing captains with every assignment he took. She was stunned, when she read her colleagues' remarks on Cavit, describing him as arrogant and faint-hearted with a tendency to insubordination. Jean Luc Picard had plainly called Cavit an "insufferable coward." Janeway liked Picard and the way he got straight to the point. She had a lot of respect for her elder colleague and trusted his judgment implicitly. If Picard said Cavit was a coward, than Cavit was a coward, which added another burden to the ones that already rested heavily on her shoulders.

'Guts', as she preferred to call it, were a prerequisite of paramount importance in a commanding officer, especially when that officer was ordered to take a starship on an uncertain mission, in the course of which he may well face situations that might cost him his life. The crew had to be able to draw their courage from their superiors. A terrified commander would send them into fits of panic. It simply would not do. As for insubordination, she simply would not suffer it.

Kathryn Janeway was absolutely certain she was going to have Cavit replaced by someone of her own choice before embarking on her next mission -- if there was going to be such a thing.

Next in the chain of command was Lieutenant Tuvok, her Vulcan chief of security, who was also in charge of the tactical station on the bridge. Tuvok had been with her for many years, ever since she had acquired her captaincy as a matter of fact. In typical Vulcan manner he had filed a complaint against her, accusing her of sloppiness in her regard for proper procedure. As a result she had been brought in front of a board of inquiry, whose task it had been to assess her performance. Tuvok had only been an ensign then. She had hated him for the actions he had taken against her, taking them as a personal insult and proof of his arrogance.

But shortly after the inquiry she had come to realize that he had filed the report against her, purely because his Vulcan conscience had demanded it of him. Slowly they had come to respect each other and formed a bond that was as close to friendship as a Vulcan and a human could get. Janeway had come to rely on his advice in difficult situations and now trusted him with her life. She liked to think of him as her better judgment and a dear friend.

Janeway's gaze came to rest on the young woman at the conn, as she watched her fingers smoothly glide over the controls. The pilot of the U.S.S.Voyager was a young Betazoid. Taria Stadi was the stereotype of her species, always centered and calm and able to quieten raging tempers with what seemed to be the surreal force of softly spoken words alone. She was probably the closest thing Voyager had to a counselor. None had been assigned to this mission, as it was only expected to last a maximum of two weeks. In her relatively short career, Stadi had gained a reputation as an outstanding pilot, which was why Janeway had chosen her. The ship's navigational controls were extremely sensitive and required an excellent pilot.

Quite a contrast to Stadi's controlled demeanor was the young ensign in charge of the ship's operations station. Ensign Harry Kim had come fresh from Starfleet Academy. His Academy file described him as a proficient scientist. This would be his very first mission. Janeway smiled at the slight clumsiness accompanying the young man's every move and gesture. He gave the impression of constantly standing to attention, but most ensigns were like this at the beginning of their career. Janeway was sure he would learn to relax with time.

Like Cavit and Paris, Voyager's chief engineer had also been the choice of Starfleet Command, but in this case Janeway had no objections. Carey had been part of the engineering team, which had built Voyager and certainly knew his way around an engine room. Not many people were trained to work with the new technology of the ship. Joe Carey was one of a handful. He was efficient, and pleasant enough to have around. Janeway felt Voyager was going to be in safe hands with him in charge of the ship's heart.

'Safe' she certainly did not feel with their 'guest', Thomas Eugene Paris. Tom's father, Admiral Paris, had been her mentor at Starfleet Academy. He had also taken her on her first mission into deep space, on the Al Batani, which had ended in disaster and nearly cost her her life. Together Janeway and the Admiral had been captured by Cardassians, whilst on a shuttle trip to collect scientific data from a moon. They had been interrogated and submitted to the unspeakable terrors of Cardassian torture. Janeway had been forced to listen to the Admirals screams as they tortured him, killing him little by little, day by day. Owen Paris and Kathryn had been very close, almost like a father and a daughter, but he had never quite recovered from the trauma that the ordeal had caused him. The experience had nearly robbed him of his sanity, not to mention his life.

She had tracked Tom down in a penal colony in New Zealand, where he was serving a sentence of treachery. Thinking that he might be of help to the mission, Starfleet command had ordered her to take him with her as an 'observer'.

The crimes he had been convicted of were serious. He had been arrested by the Federation Authorities when he was caught serving in the Maquis, a paramilitary organization of former Federation citizens formed at the colonies affected by the border changes wrought by the Federation - Cardassian Treaty of 2367. The Maquis had come into existence in response to Cardassian hostilities toward these colonies and the perception that they had been abandoned by the Federation Government. Many of the Maquis had suffered violence and personal tragedy at the hands of the Cardassians. They felt that Cardassia intended to drive them from their homes, and many had chosen to fight, rather than leave everything they held dear behind.

However, no such noble reasons had driven Tom Paris to join the Maquis. A graduate of Starfleet Academy, he had been notoriously involved in a fatal accident that had claimed the lives of three Starfleet officers. At the inquiry that followed the incident Paris had denied all responsibility for the accident, even putting the blame onto a friend who had died in the tragedy. But later, in what may have been a fit of remorse, he admitted to having falsified reports in order to omit punishment by the authorities. The accident had been his fault alone. As a result he was forced to resign his commission. Having nowhere else to go he hung around the bars in Marseille, a mercenary waiting to be hired by anyone who would pay him, and eventually joined the Maquis. A few weeks later he was caught by the Federation Authorities during his first mission for the paramilitary group. Now a convicted terrorist and traitor, he had apparently agreed to assist the Federation in tracking down the very Maquis cell he had been a part of not so very long ago. In exchange for his cooperation, he would be granted parole on his return from the mission, should it be completed successfully.

The mission itself was certainly risky and by far not as straightforward as Janeway would have liked. The problem lay in the fact that its success depended to a very large part of Paris' assistance.

They were to locate a specific Maquis cell, led by a certain Maquis captain called Chakotay. Under his command, the Maquis had managed to destroy several Cardassian vessels and industrial compounds in the DMZ. In his short time as a Maquis leader, Chakotay had caused more trouble for the Cardassians than any of his counterparts in the past four years. His proficiency was undoubtedly due to his Starfleet training and experience, not to mention the contacts he had gained. Some of his fellow cadets at the Academy were now high-ranking Starfleet officers, and he had made many friends in the 'Fleet. A small group of his influential friends was under suspicion of assisting their former fellow cadet in the form of supplies – food, medical supplies, weapons and even ships.

Chakotay had been a Starfleet officer for over a decade before joining the Maquis, but had resigned his commission voluntarily, when his father was killed by Cardassians on his home planet in the DMZ in 2370. His father, Kolopak, had been the leader of the Maquis cell, and Chakotay had felt obliged to carry on his legacy and defend his homeworld from Cardassian attacks. Although born on Trebus, Chakotay was of Native American descent, a heritage he had denied until his father's death. Despite Kolopaks efforts to introduce his son to the history and customs of his tribe, Chakotay had wanted nothing to do with what he referred to as the 'bush people'. Kolopak had been greatly disappointed at this and at his son joining Starfleet. Attempting to make amends after his father's death, Chakotay finally began to embrace the traditional ways of his tribe. Recent images had shown the Maquis leader sporting a tattoo of the tribal insignia over his left brow.

What was far more worrying, he had also decided to take his father's place among the Maquis and seemed to be doing so just a little too well.

His recent actions against the Cardassians were beginning to endanger the treaty, as the Empire grew more and more tired of losing their ships and people at the hands of a bunch of renegade Ex-Federation citizens.

Captain Janeway and her crew had orders to track down and arrest Chakotay and, if possible, the entire cell, and deliver them into the hands of the Federation Authorities, so that they could be tried for their crimes. The Federation Government regarded the Maquis as ruthless terrorists, and there would be no mercy on behalf of the judges. Kathryn Janeway fully agreed with the Federation Council on this matter. In her eyes it was preposterous to believe that the Cardassians would systematically threaten and attack former Federation colonies in the DMZ and thereby risk jeopardizing the treaty that had gained them so much. She had no sympathy with the Maquis cause. Before the treaty the Federation and the Cardassian Empire had been constantly in conflict with each other. It had been the most violent and merciless feud, and the treaty had put a most welcome end to the unspeakable amount of bloodshed and destruction. The loss of a few insignificant colonies seemed a fair price to pay in exchange for and end to the hostilities with Cardassia, and Janeway would defy anyone and anything that threatened the still fragile peace. And fragile it certainly was. Both sides had actively acknowledged the treaty for a year now, but lately the Cardassians had begun to threaten the Federation. They were going to declare the treaty void if the Federation did not get the Maquis under control. The conflict would pick up where it stopped and there was no doubt in Janeway's mind that a full military clash with the Cardassian Empire could only end in defeat for the Federation. They had been pushed to their absolute limits during the last hostilities, yet the Cardassian military seemed to be a force of endless power and resources. The consequences of war against Cardassia were unthinkable. Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager would do everything in her power to prevent it.

"We are entering the Badlands, Captain." Stadi interrupted Janeway's brooding.

She rose from her Captain's chair to assume her famous command stance, standing tall, chin up, poker face, and hands on hips.

"All stop!" she ordered before tapping her combadge.

"Janeway to Paris."

"Paris here, Captain." he responded in an unnervingly leisurely way.   
  
"Mr. Paris, we have entered the Badlands. You are needed on the bridge!"   
  
"On my way." he casually replied.

Janeway frowned. She felt uneasy about Paris. He seemed to change his loyalties too frequently, was really loyal only to himself, and that scared her more than she cared to admit. There was no guarantee that he was really going to cooperate with them in exchange for parole. Nothing was waiting for him back home. His family and friends pretended not to know him and his career options were forever ruined. He was a dishonored man, an outcast on his homeworld and beyond. He might find it far more appealing to rejoin he Maquis and deliver Voyager and her crew into their waiting hands, thus proving his loyalty to the paramilitary group and possibly winning their admiration and trust.

A shudder went down the captain's spine as she contemplated the consequences of this highly possible scenario just as the turbo lift doors opened to reveal the cocky young man.

Janeway forced her thoughts aside for the moment in order to give the situation before her her full attention.

"Mr. Paris, I want you to take the conn and take us through the Badlands in one piece. Then take us to the Terikof belt."

Despite all his faults Tom Paris was the best pilot Janeway knew. With him at the conn she would also be able to keep an eye on him, while he was present on the bridge. Stadi promptly vacated her position in favor of Paris.

"Ensign Kim, do you read any plasma storms in the area?" Janeway asked the nervous young ensign in charge of the Operations station.   
  
"Affirmative, Captain. There are a number of plasma storms ahead." he responded eagerly, and a little too loudly in his endeavor to please his captain. Tuvok raised an eyebrow as he contemplated the countless curiosities of human behavior.   
  
"Transfer the coordinates of the storms to Mr. Paris' console. Mr. Paris, plot a course around the storms!"

"Aye, Captain!" both men replied in unison.   
  
"Course laid in, Captain." Paris announced.

This was the moment Janeway had dreaded all along. They were relying entirely on Tom Paris now. Only he knew where the Maquis settlements in the Terikof belt were located, and she still did not trust him. The man had no honor, no principles of any kind. What if he decided to betray them? There was no telling what the Maquis would do to a Starfleet crew if they were captured. In a few reports, she had read of Starfleet personnel being tortured and even killed by Maquis resistance fighters. The Maquis hated the Federation almost as much as they hated the Cardassians. They felt that the Federation had deserted their colonies and left them at the mercy of the Cardassians, without providing them with the means to defend themselves against their foe. Killings were daily routine, and she was certain, they would not have any scruples about ridding themselves of a Starfleet crew in their pursuit. 

The Captain's icy stare rested calculatingly on Paris, as he navigated her ship smoothly through the plasma storms.

"We are leaving the Badlands, Captain. At full impulse we should reach the Terikof Belt in approximately half an hour." Paris informed her.

"We will be there in exactly twenty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds, Captain." Tuvok confirmed in typical Vulcan manner. 

Under normal circumstances the captain would have allowed herself to make a humorous comment about exaggerated Vulcan efficiency, but she was not in the mood for jokes right now. She frowned.

"Mr. Paris, tell me, where exactly are the Maquis hideouts in the Terikof belt?"

Paris answered her without as much as a glance.

"There are a number of systems in the belt. The first one, the Moriya, is uninhabited. It consists of five planets, all K-Class and unable to sustain humanoid life. Most of the hideouts are in the second system, the Ronara. It consists of seven planets. Two of them are M-Class. That's where the Maquis are. Chakotay's cell can usually be found on Ronara Prime, the first M-Class planet in that system."

Captain Janeway's eyes drilled an imaginary hole into the back of Paris' head in a futile attempt to read his mind. What would she give right now to be a telepath! She could not read Paris at all. Janeway had no choice but to recline in her chair and put her trust into him. There was no other way around this. The tense frown on her brow seemed to have become a permanent part of her.

"Set a course for Ronara Prime and take us into orbit, Mr. Paris."

"Aye, Captain!" he replied, and Janeway found herself suppressing a shudder at the smugness of his tone. He sounded far too happy with himself for her taste.

"Mr. Tuvok, Mr. Kim, keep checking for ships in the area and scan the entire region for lifesigns. I don't want any unexpected surprises," she said, never letting Paris out of her sight. Was that a muffled laugh she had just heard from him? Her stomach tightened as yet another shudder threatened to expose her unease to the bridge officers. She decided it would be best to recline in her chair and give the crew at least the appearance of control. She could not allow them to sense her apprehension. That would be detrimental to morale. They could not afford to make any mistakes now. Continuing her brooding, she kept her gaze permanently fixed on Paris.

Approximately thirty minutes later Voyager entered the first system in the Terikof belt. Janeway ordered the crew to go to red alert. The shields went up and the entire bridge was plunged into relative darkness with nothing but the red alert claxons providing illumination. Tuvok and Kim had scanned the Moriya system thoroughly, but neither of them had detected any lifesigns or ships. Maybe Paris was cooperating after all. Everyone was beginning to relax a little and Janeway ordered to end red alert. There was no point keeping everyone on edge with no lifesigns about, and it would only drain their energy reserves if they kept the shields up for no reason. Janeway was certain that they would need all the energy they could get once they entered the Badlands. The gravitational eddies there would require Voyager to be protected by maximum shielding. 

The Captain allowed herself to relax a little and began studying the sensor readings on her own console. Suddenly her attention was drawn to a phenomenon in the air right in front of her. Too late she realized that it was the familiar sparkle of a transporter beam. Wide-eyed she watched as a small metal cylinder materialized at her feet. A feeling of dread and panic began to rise within her. It was all happening too quickly. She heard a small hiss as some kind of a gaseous compound began to escape from the metallic container. A split second later she felt as if her life-force were being drained from her body. She had barely enough time to register that several of her crewmembers were sinking to the ground, before she drifted into oblivion. Within seconds of the cylinder's manifestation the entire bridge crew had been rendered unconscious.


	2. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

******_Transporter Room, Subterranean Maquis Base on Panora II, Moriya System, Terikof Belt_**

Valen Lojal, the young Bajoran man in charge of the transporter room, allowed himself a self-satisfied grin as he tapped his combadge.

"Lojal to Chakotay.""Go ahead, Lojal!"

"The transport has been successful. They should all be unconscious by now."

Lojal was pleased to give his captain the good news. Chakotay's plan had been truly ingenious. He would be happy to hear of its success.

"Good work, Lojal. Beam the away team to the Starfleet vessel."

Chakotay sat smiling at the desk in his quarters. His plan was working out very well. To tell the truth, it had not been his plan alone. B'Elanna Torres, his extremely talented Human-Klingon engineer, had had a lot to do with it. She may have quite a temper, but when it came to her job, she really knew what she was doing.

During the past year he and B'Elanna had become very close, like brother and sister. He could not begin to imagine what his new life in the Maquis would have been like without her. When he had left Starfleet to join the Maquis, after his father's death a year ago, he had left all his friends, as well as his family behind. He could not risk contacting his brothers for fear of incriminating them, as well as for the risk of being tracked down by the authorities, -- both Cardassian and Federation.

As for his friends, they had all been Starfleet. Some of them were now secretly supplying him with weapons, ships, food and medicine at no small risk to themselves, but a great number of them had ostracized him after he had joined the Maquis.

B'Elanna had always been an outsider. Being half Human and half Klingon, she had never really been able to conform to either culture. Her human father had left her and her mother when she was only five years old, and her Klingon mother had always made it clear that she wanted her daughter to grow up to be a full Klingon. Thus B'Elanna felt at odds with both parts of her heritage, a state of mind which caused her a great deal of frustration and confusion. Her mother had never attempted to understand her dilemma. Instead of hugs, she got countless tales of great Klingon warriors, stories of their bravery, their pride and their struggles to overcome impossible hurdles and hardships.

With a father who had left her, a mother who did not understand her, and virtually no friends, she was as alone in the world as Chakotay.

   
Both being lonely, they had become family to each other. But she was also extremely valuable to Chakotay on a professional basis. Her ingenuity in engineering matters had been the key to creating this hideout. Chakotay often found himself thinking, how foolish Starfleet Academy had been to let her go.

The Maquis had found an ancient, deserted and long forgotten Cardassian ore mine on an asteroid orbiting Panora II, and had transformed it into a unique safe haven. The base on Panora II had already had several natural advantages: the planet was situated in the Terikof Belt, a relatively unknown region of space, separated from the Federation and the Cardassians by the Badlands. Not many ships ever came here, and if they did, no one suspected any life here since Panora II and the asteroid were both Class-K -- basically a large rocks in space. The risk of detection was minimal.

B'Elanna had transformed the ancient mine into a high tech base. She had worked miracles with the sometimes decades old technology the Maquis had at their disposal. Now they had two docking bays, a transporter room, a brig, replicators, a small fleet of -- admittedly severely outdated -- ships and an atmospheric control system that made it possible to live in the base without the need to wear environmental suits. The natural atmosphere on Panora II and its asteroid could not sustain humanoid life, since it contained neither oxygen nor nitrogen in its gas mixture and temperatures on the surface were way below freezing. However, the jewel in the crown of B'Elanna's achievements had undoubtedly been a revolutionary shielding system that made it impossible to detect the base from the outside. No known sensor technology was sophisticated enough to penetrate it.

Chakotay's thoughts returned to the present. B'Elanna would be beaming to the vessel with the away team now, together with Seska, Chakotay's Bajoran ex-lover.

Seska had been the first one to join his cell. On that day, she had told about the slaughter of her family at the hand of Cardassians during their occupation of Bajor. She wanted nothing more than pay them back for the atrocities they had committed.

Chakotay had then shared with her the tragic story of the destruction of his village, again at the hands of the Cardassians. In their mutual grief they had found comfort in each other, but Chakotay had soon realized that the relationship could not continue when she began to disobey and circumvent his orders. Her behavior had forced him to end their relationship, and although he had never really been in love with her, he often missed the comfort she had provided him with.

Seska still continued her efforts to seduce him on numerous occasions, and he knew that she did not accept that their relationship had ended, but as hard as it sometimes was, he would not give into her again. He needed to preserve a clear leadership position among his cell, and Seska had already weakened it once before.

He would not return to that situation.

Seska and B'Elanna were similar in temper and had soon become close friends, although Seska had initially been jealous of the bond between her ex-lover and the half Klingon. He could swear that he could still see her tense, every time he was with B'Elanna. Seska also was a decent engineer, and most of the time she did her work well.

She was ruthless in her battle against the Cardassians -- a little too ruthless sometimes, for Chakotay's taste. He had always had a great amount of respect for all life, and the deaths he had been directly and indirectly responsible for lay heavy on his conscience.

Seska, on the other hand, seemed to relish in the killings. It made no difference to her whether the people she killed were Cardassian or Federation. Chakotay's orders had always been to simply disable enemy ships and to keep bloodshed to a minimum, but she had repeatedly ignored his orders.

At one point he had almost thrown her out of the cell, when she had deliberately destroyed a helpless Federation runabout, taking the lives of five innocent Starfleet officers. That had been the final straw. Many times he had tried to rationalize with her, had told her that she was lowering herself to the level of their Cardassian foe, but she had simply shrugged off his comment and countered that they had to beat the enemy at their own game.

Chakotay had disagreed and told her to obey his orders or leave the cell. This time though, he had been furious, leaving her with the warning that if she were ever to fire on a helpless vessel again, he would personally see that she was delivered into the hands of the enemy, and he made it clear that he did not mean the Federation.

Apparently his threats had had quite an impact on her. Although Seska had continued to show her violent nature actively and often needlessly in battle, she had not fired on any helpless vessels again. Even if she was only obeying his orders to save her own skin, he infinitely preferred it to more unnecessary bloodshed.

Yet the fact remained that she was a cold and calculating woman. She did her job well, but did not care about any of the people around her, neither enemy nor friend. Perhaps the way life had treated her had made her the way she was -- he could not tell. But her violent nature had cost him many a night's sleep. Sometimes he wished he had gotten rid off her when she had destroyed the runabout. She was a constant worry to him. She was uncontrollably ruthless, and that scared the hell out of him.

Chakotay shook his head to banish the thoughts, which had forced themselves into his mind. Rising from the position at his desk, he began to pace his quarters, which had originally been the residence of the Cardassian gul -- the former commanding officer of this long-deserted and long-forgotten labor camp. Apparently the Cardassians had lost interest in the asteroid after they had bled it dry of its resources, and there didn't seem to be any records of the base anywhere, which of course worked to the Maquis' advantage.The apartment was quite large and consisted of several rooms -- the word 'feudal' came to mind. There was even a luxury bathroom with a shower, and a bathtub big enough to accommodate an army. The taps were made of ore and still shone brightly -- a typical display of Cardassian decadence. Chakotay had covered the smooth stonewalls with traditional hangings of his people.

On his departure, more than half a millennium ago, the gul had left all his furnishings behind. It was extremely luxurious.

The bedroom was the quintessential epitome of extravagance. Chakotay's bed was large enough to serve at least two people most comfortably. A profligate bordeaux canopy, made of a heavy velvety material, hung over its four posts. The mattress was five times as thick as a standard Starfleet issue, not to mention the incredibly fluffy pillows and that ocean of a duvet.

The wardrobe could have accommodated all the clothes of all the members of Chakotay's cell at the same time, and still a few more after that, and one of the bedroom walls was covered entirely with an elaborately framed mirror.

The place had the look of a grand European palace of the 18th or 19th century. The floor throughout his quarters was covered in a plush bordeaux carpet, apart from the bathroom. There an intricate mosaic of precious stones adorned the ground.   
  
The centerpiece of the dining room was undoubtedly the magnificent crystal chandelier that gracefully hung over a costly ebony table and six extremely comfortable matching chairs. Several tall splendid glass door cabinets, that had no doubt once exhibited the former inhabitant's trophies and treasures, graced the walls of the lounge room, and in the center stood an ebony coffee table surrounded by a luxury couch and two extremely comfortable arm chairs. The splendor of the interior design was completely and utterly opposed to Chakotay's simple and modest, sometimes even desperate lifestyle in the Maquis.

He sunk into one of the lavish armchairs and rubbed his chin in thought. It was turning out to be quite a day. Their sensor system had picked up the Starfleet vessel when it had passed one of their probes in the Badlands.

If B'Elanna's original analysis was to be believed, it was a completely new ship -- a prototype. The Maquis rarely acquired something brand new. Most of their equipment, including their spacecrafts, was decades old. It was a miracle that they managed to make do with the junk they had at their disposal. A lot of it was salvage, some of it was outdated technology that sympathizers in Starfleet had managed to get to them, and some of it was stolen. This Starfleet vessel was quite a catch.

The away team had beamed to the ship in environmental suits, as a protection against the neural toxin the cylinders had contained. They had beamed up eight of them, one for every two decks. Now the away team would vent the gas from the vessel and land it in the larger one of their two secret underground docking stations. He had given orders for the ship's Starfleet crew to be taken to the structure that served the Maquis as a brig. Once they had been treated with an antidote to neutralize the neural toxin they would all be interrogated, one by one. Chakotay would oversee the questioning of the senior officers personally. He could not help wondering if there were going to be any familiar faces among the crew from his time with Starfleet.

"Away team to Chakotay" a female voice came over the comm-link.

There was a glint of excitement and expectation in his eyes when he straightened a little and answered,

"Go ahead, B'Elanna!"

"We have landed the ship and are now transporting the crew to the brig."

"Well done! I'll be there in a minute. Chakotay out."

He surged out of the comfortable chair and almost sprinted towards the door, a newly found vigor evident in his step. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Chakotay smiled as he left his quarters.

Quickly he strode through the labyrinth of the dimly lit and endlessly winding underground tunnels of the ancient mine. The walls of the tunnels were covered in centuries old layers of limestone, and the sound of small drops of water that continuously dripped from the ceilings of the less traveled deeper tunnels lend the place an eerie ambience. Minutes later he reached what had been the cells of prisoners who had been forced to work in this mine by the Cardassians centuries ago. Dozens of the small dark cells lined a corridor on either site. The original bars, which had been rendered useless due to the ever-present corroding moisture, had been replaced with more efficient forcefields. Chakotay reached the brig just in time to see the last one go up on a cell at the very end of the corridor. Lojal, who stood there, gestured for Chakotay to join him.

"Good work, Lojal! Have you isolated the senior officers from the rest of the crew?"

"Yes, that's why I asked you to come over here. Take a look at the captain, Chakotay. There is something you might like to know."

Lojal had trouble suppressing a smug grin as he pointed at the interior of the cell in front of them.

Chakotay's curiosity was peaked. He stepped towards the barely lit cell, its only source of light being the faint shimmer of the old torches that illuminated the corridor in which the guards stood duty. Chakotay strained his eyes to look through the forcefield into the cell. Squinting, he could barely make out the form of a small and slender body clad in Starfleet command colors, which was slumped in the center of the cold, moist floor. A chignon of auburn hair reflected the few dull rays of light that had managed to pierce the darkness of the cell's interior. What was he looking at? A woman? The cell was just too dim to tell. Frowning he ordered,

"Lojal, release the forcefield!"

Chakotay stepped into the cell and knelt next to the figure on the ground. Closer up the body looked even smaller. Now he could definitely make out auburn hair, artfully restrained in an elaborate twist. A few strands of hair had escaped their confinement, softly surrounding the graceful features of a beautiful feminine face.

The Maquis captain was stunned. Somehow he had not expected Starfleet to send a woman after the Maquis, and there was no doubt in his mind that her mission had been to capture them. Stories of killings, torture and rape were a daily reality in the DMZ. He was surprised that a woman possessed the courage and madness to take on such a suicide mission. Of course, being a Starfleet captain, danger was part of the job, but he found it rather careless of Starfleet Central Command to send a woman into this hellhole, when there would have been several equally well-distinguished male contenders for the mission. Chakotay could not help feeling a little protective toward women, despite the fact that he regarded them as equals. Within his cell he always made sure that the women were given the least hazardous tasks. Usually they appreciated it, apart from Seska, of course.

He had seen what the Cardassians could do to a female, and it was not a pretty sight. They delighted even more in humiliating and torturing women than men. When it came to dealing with female prisoners, rape was always on the agenda. It was the most perfect form of torture. It not only completely subdued and humiliated the prisoner, but it also provided the captor with sexual satisfaction.   
  
Unfortunately, this was also true of some sections of the Maquis, even within his own cell, as much as he hated to admit it.

She must be very good to command a ship like that, he thought. Moving his hand to her cheek to sweep a stray strand of hair out of her face, he was startled as his hand touched ice. As opposed to her crew, the captain had not been administered the antidote yet. He himself had given the orders for the most senior officer to be treated last, so that he could use his weakness to advantage during the planned interrogation. But in his mind he had always imagined the Starfleet captain to be a man. Had he known it was a woman, he would not have given those orders, as the specific neural toxin they had used was particularly harsh on the female physiology.

Chakotay was getting worried. The brig was not heated and he did not want her to die of hypothermia -- he had already been responsible for too many unnecessary deaths. He took her wrist into his hand to check her pulse and felt nothing. In a surge of panic, his fingers clenched tightly around the slender wrist. Then, for an instant, he thought he detected a very faint and slow beat underneath his own pounding pulse. He knew that if there were still a small chance that she could be saved, he would have to act fast; so he made a rather impulsive decision.   
  
Without another thought Chakotay lifted her up into his arms and carried her out of the cell.

"I'll take her to my quarters, Lojal. She's suffering from hypothermia. We may have left it a little too long with the antidote."

Lojal took in the concerned expression on his captain's face and nodded.

"You'll need this!" he said, as he slid a hypospray into Chakotay's pocket.

Secretly the young Bajoran wondered what Seska's reaction would be when she discovered that her lover had taken the beautiful Starfleet captain to his quarters. She would be raging...

With ease Chakotay carried the unconscious woman through the twilight of the old mining tunnels to his quarters, surprised at how little she weighed. Once in his quarters he took her to the sleeping area and gently placed her onto his bed, positioning a pillow under her head for added comfort. He knew she would have a bad headache when she woke -- only one of many side effects of the toxin. Next he took off her heavy Starfleet issue boots and spread the duvet over her prone form, before sitting down next to her on the bed.

Her lips were purple, and she was as pale as a sheet. All the dreaded signs of hypothermia were present. He took her wrist again and allowed himself to relax when he felt her pulse growing stronger and steadier.

A smile lit up his eyes as he finally allowed himself to take a good long look at her. She could be no more than 5'5'' tall. He thought her to be in her late thirties, pretty much the same age as he -- well, maybe a little younger. High cheekbones defined her face, and by the way her chin pointed he could imagine how the ensigns she commanded would be awed simply by her presence. Certainly, she was an opponent to be reckoned with.

Despite the hypothermia she looked so peaceful in her unconscious state. He knew her expression would change drastically as soon as she awoke. His gaze traveled down her graceful neck and came to rest on the four pips attached to her blue turtleneck, indeed identifying her as the captain of the impressive vessel they had seized.  Chakotay shook his head in amused disbelief and sighed.

Abruptly his expression darkened. He would not be fooled by her appearance. He knew better than waking Starfleet captains without first ensuring that they had been restrained.

Undoubtedly she had been trained thoroughly in numerous martial arts at Starfleet Academy, as indeed he himself had been, and he was not about to take any unnecessary risks, now, that his plan had worked out so well. Not having any shackles at hand, he removed the leather belt he was wearing and used it to tie the woman's wrists to the headboard of his bed. Having reassured himself that she was restrained securely, he took the hypospray out of his pocket and administered it to one side of her neck. Now all he had to do was wait...

  



	3. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the brig the crew of the Federation Starship Voyager had regained consciousness. A chorus of low moans escaped from the cells as everybody became aware of the pain and discomfort, caused both by the neural toxin and the unkind surroundings. The brig was cold and wet, and some of the crew had already acquired an unhealthy sounding cough.   There were no bunks, nor were there any seats or blankets. Just square cells carved from solid rock. The only place to sit or lie was the hard, cold and -- unfortunately -- damp floor.   The senior officers had been separated from the rest of the crew, and were huddled together in one small cell.  

"Alright, suggestions, everyone." Cavit growled half-heartedly as he massaged his temples. He had a terrible headache and was not in a mood to take over command. Where the hell was Janeway? She was supposed to handle this situation, not he. Cavit kicked himself for the hundredth time. Why had he not come up with some excuse for Starfleet Command, in order to avoid being sent on this godforsaken mission? But unfortunately he had already done that too often in the past, and Starfleet Command were beginning to become suspicious of his constant excuses. That was why he had not even tried to get out of this one. Bad choice! Why could they not just find him a desk job? That was all he really wanted to do -- work during the day and go home at night to spend some time with his wife and kids, not gallivanting around the galaxy -- one suicidal mission after the other -- in an attempt to make the world a better place, or to collect obscure scientific data from some remote part of space. He just wanted to lead a normal life.

His adoptive parents had forced him into this stupid career, and in an attempt to make them proud, he had fulfilled their wish, not even once voicing his objections. Both of them had passed away years ago, and he seriously questioned whether this had been worth all the trouble. Maybe he should ask for early retirement, or change his career path. If only they would give him that desk job...  

"It appears that we have been transported to a subterranean structure of some sort and are now being held hostage by the Maquis." Tuvok stated. Cavit despised the Vulcan chief of security -- constantly goddamn efficient, perpetually stating the obvious and never showing any emotions whatsoever. It just was not natural. He was supposed to be a Vulcan, not an android.

Tuvok seemed to be the only one who was not suffering from a headache or the cold, although Cavit was sure the Vulcan had to suffer from the chilling environment more than any other crewmember, since his homeworld had an extremely hot climate. Yet he seemed as calm and controlled as ever. So he was a Vulcan, but could he not at least show a few signs of discomfort or fear? Everyone else did...  

A little hesitant, young Ensign Kim asked with a slightest hint of a tremble in his voice, "Ok, so what do we do now?"   This was just his luck -- his first deep space mission, and he gets to be a hostage of some terrorist group. They were probably going to torture and, quite possibly, kill him. In his wildest dreams he had never imagined his first mission to have this outcome. He had been looking forward to it so much. Being assigned to Voyager -- Starfleet's latest jewel in the crown -- had been a great honor, especially for an ensign fresh out of Starfleet Academy. His parents had been so proud of him, when he had told them about his commission. Now they were hostages of the Maquis and did not even know what to expect next -- hell, they did not even know where they were being held.  

"I suggest we wait to see what the Maquis have planned for us. There is no apparent way of escape from this cell. The forcefield is extremely powerful, and the walls are solid rock. We must simply wait and see how this situation develops. In the meantime, I suggest we observe the enemy." Tuvok suggested.  

Commander Cavit just rolled his eyes.   "Thank you for that constructive piece of input, Mr. Tuvok!" he grunted sarcastically.  

Tuvok raised an eyebrow but decided to ignore his commanding officers hostile behavior, conscribing it to the stress of the situation.  

"Do you think the captain is still alive?" Stadi asked, sounding a little shaken.  

"We do not have any information to answer that question at this moment. I would think it quite improbable though, that they would kill the captain. After all, Captain Janeway is the only one who knows all the specifics of this mission. She is their most valuable hostage. It would be illogical to kill her at this point."  

"I suppose that's the Vulcan way of telling us to hope for the best." Carey added, genuine worry for the captain written in his features.  

"What makes you think the Maquis are guided by logic?" Cavit grunted. He felt an ever-growing urge to hit the Vulcan. Thinking better of it he asked,   "Lieutenant Tuvok, what do you think the Maquis are likely to do next?"  

Tuvok's left eyebrow rose a little higher as he answered,  

"From what I have read about similar situations in Starfleet's mission archives, I would conclude that each one of us would be undergoing interrogation. The procedures will start with the captain, followed by lower ranking officers, working their way systematically down the chain of command. They are likely to use torture as a means of extracting the information they require from their hostages. In the past, there have been numerous casualties and a few fatalities, mostly among the senior staff."  

Everyone was struck silent as realization of their true predicament hit home. Cavit was the first to find his voice, albeit in a wave of sarcasm.  

"That's what I like about you Vulcans! You always look on the bright site!"  

"I fail to see how 'a look on the bright site' would benefit the situation, Sir." Tuvok countered calmly.

He did not comprehend the reason for Commander Cavit's ongoing hostility toward him. Was it stress related? If so, there would be problems. It was highly irregular for a commanding officer to show his agitation to this extent, especially in a situation like this, where he should attempt to be an example to the rest of the crew. Tuvok made a mental note to observe Cavit, as he sat on the ground with his back against the rear wall of the cell, closely huddled together with the other officers in an attempt to keep each other warm, whilst Cavit sat alone in a corner.

Seska was prowling through the brig like a caged lion on the lookout for prey, taking a thorough inventory of every cell. Starfleet -- what a bunch of incompetent fools! It had been so easy to capture them that she began to wonder why the Federation had ever gotten as far as it had. If she could have her way, they would not be here in the first place. She would have gotten rid of them and taken their ship only. Sometimes she wondered about Chakotay. He and his goddamn principles! She continued to measure each and every one of the prisoners, sneering every now and then and delighting in the fact that some of the ensigns were so paralyzed with fear that they could not meet her eyes.   Her eyes came to rest on the figure of a young man dressed in Starfleet command colors. He was not wearing the typical pips that would indicate his rank, and that roused Seska's curiosity. He was tall and slim with short blond hair. Somehow he looked familiar. She could have sworn that she had seen him before somewhere... 

"Hey, B'Elanna, come over here!" The half Klingon walked over to her friend.  

"What is it, Seska?"  

"Doesn't he look somehow familiar to you? The blond one in the black and red uniform."  

Paris had recognized Seska the moment she had stopped by his cell. Now he saw the Maquis engineer joining her. Well, I might as well own up to it, he thought. They were going to find out anyway. He rose to his feet and approached the forcefield.  

"Hello, B'Elanna, Seska! Nice to see you two again!" he said with fake joviality, pretending to be happy to see them.  

"Paris?" B'Elanna exclaimed in disbelieve. She had not seen him since Chakotay had sent him to get help, when they were sitting ducks in the DMZ after a debilitating battle with a Cardassian warship. Later, news of his arrest had reached them, although she suspected that he had in reality run out on them. If he had really gotten arrested, should he not still be in a Federation penal colony? What had he been doing on the Starfleet vessel? Had he been spying for Starfleet all along? Of, course! Now it all fell into place. She felt her blood begin to boil.  

"Paris, you son of a targ! Wait until Chakotay gets his hands on you!"  

Oh, it was a shame that Chakotay was so fussy about the way they treated their prisoners. She would have enjoyed beating Paris into a pulp.   A predatory grin had spread over Seska's face.  

"I knew I'd met him before! Chakotay will tear him to pieces!"  

"If he doesn't, I will!" B'Elanna snarled.  

Seska touched her combadge,   "Seska to Chakotay."   "What is it, Seska?"

Chakotay sounded annoyed. Unperturbed by his obvious displeasure at her call she continued,  

"B'Elanna and I have a little surprise for you in the brig!"  

"I can't come down there now. I have business to attend to here."  

"But Chakotay, it's someone you know!"  

"It will have to wait, Seska!"  

Seska was surprised. She had not expected him to react this way. She tried again.  

"Do you remember Tom Paris, Chakotay?"  

"What about him?" the Maquis leader asked gruffly.  

"He was on the ship, Chakotay. B'Elanna and I think he's been a Federation spy all along!"  

Anger mounted in the Maquis captain at the thought of having been betrayed by the little rat that called itself Tom Paris, and under normal circumstances he would have been eager to go to the brig to show Paris what he thought of him.   But he did not want to leave the Starfleet captain right now. This was a little more important than getting even with Tom Paris. He wanted to be present when the she woke up. With great resolve Chakotay swallowed his anger and responded,  

"Well, it will still have to wait. I have a lot of things to do, and I don't want to be disturbed again. Chakotay out."  

Both Seska and B'Elanna stood utterly perplexed.

The color had begun to return to her pale cheeks, and her chest was rising and falling steadily and more perceptively now. She moaned softly, as she shifted a little. Chakotay looked on, as her eyelids began to flutter.   Kathryn Janeway slowly drifted back to awareness. She felt like hell. A constant sharp pain in her head made her apprehensive to open her eyes. She felt so nauseous that she was sure she was going to vomit if she tried to move. There was not a single part of her body that was not experiencing pain, and she felt cold -- very cold.

She licked her dry and broken lips with a parched tongue that seemed determined to stick to her palate. Her throat burned dryly, as if she had been drinking pure acid. Dehydration, she thought, as her body trembled with the cold -- spasms that she couldn't control, no matter how hard she tried, making each and every muscle contract, causing unbearable pain. What the hell was wrong with her? One by one her senses regained alertness. Pain, nausea, thirst... she still did not dare to open her eyes, so she tried to concentrate on her other faculties. She was lying on something soft, like a couch or a bed, and she could not move her arms... A surge of panic jolted through her, as she realized that her wrists had been tied to some solid structure.   Instantly the memories returned. She had been on Voyager, on a mission against the Maquis. A small object had suddenly materialized out of thin air. She thought she had heard a hiss and then... Darkness! Nothing!   In shock Captain Janeway forced herself to open her eyes, wincing as the light cut through her skull like a red-hot knife. Reflex forced her eyes shut again, but fear counteracted it, and she willed them open once more.

The room spun around her, causing her stomach to turn until she felt the bile rise. Oh god, not now! Please, not now, she thought as she fought the urge to vomit. Her vision was just beginning to adjust to the light and focus on her surroundings, when a man's voice startled her,  

"Well, look who's awake!"  

Instinctively her head shot around in the direction of the voice, an action she instantly regretted, as the sudden movement only aggravated her pain and made her dizzy. Sitting next to her on the bed was a man. All she could make out was his silhouette against the uncomfortably bright light of her surroundings. She blinked. Janeway's eyes grew wide as her pupils adjusted, and her mind began to recognize him from the pictures she had studied in Starfleet's computer archives: Native American, the blue tattoo above his left brow, the short cropped black hair, the hawk bridged nose, the darkly handsome features... but the pictures had given her no idea of how powerful and imposing a man he really was.

He was at least six foot tall; his body was broad and well muscled. He made her feel a lot smaller than she was. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he watched her. Kathryn Janeway felt like a trapped animal. Her heart was racing and the nausea threatened to overpower her at any moment. She had to get a grip on herself. She would not allow him to see how terrified she was, nor was she going to humiliate herself in front of him by giving in to the urge to relief her stomach of its contents. Get in control of the situation, she thought frantically, as she suppressed a shudder, whether from cold or fear, she was uncertain.   With a touch of amusement Chakotay witnessed the raging battle that took its course inside the woman, who had now regained consciousness. Her steel blue eyes were wide, staring at him with an expression of utter shock, the pulse that had been almost non-existent moments ago now visibly racing in the artery at her neck, as she struggled for composure.  

"Where am I? What have you done with my crew?" she demanded when she had recovered her voice, amazed at how calm and controlled she sounded. She wished she really felt that way.  The steadiness of her voice had taken him by surprise. He had not expected her to recover this quickly. Even the expression in her eyes had changed in split seconds, from pure terror to outraged anger. He chuckled at her spirit.  

"You are in my quarters, in a Maquis base on an asteroid in the Moriya system. We have taken your ship and are holding you and your crew hostage."  

Chakotay admired her almost Vulcan control as he explained the terrifying truth of her situation.

He continued,   "My name is..." only to be interrupted by her in mid-sentence.  

"I know who you are, Chakotay. I've been well briefed on your criminal activities in the DMZ."

Her voice was filled with contempt. A little taken aback Chakotay countered,  

"Well, Captain, it would seem that you are one step ahead of me. You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are. Would you have the courtesy to introduce yourself?"  

Janeway was in no mood to be social.  

"What have you done with my crew? Where are they?"

Chakotay's features darkened a little, but he answered her nevertheless.  

"We are keeping them in our brig. But I will be asking the questions from now on, and you will provide me with answers. I want you to tell me your name. I want to know what you were doing in the Terikof Belt and what your exact orders were. Start talking, Captain!"  

The Maquis leader was beginning to loose his patience, his voice assuming a menacing tone, causing yet another wave of panic to encompass her prone form. Somehow, however, she managed to raise her chin a little and give him one of her most defiant glares.  

"I don't cooperate with criminals. You won't get any information out of me!"  

A smile tugged at his lips in admiration of her courage. She was after all entirely vulnerable, as she lay there tied to his bed.  

"Why don't you tell me your name to start off with? Surely that's not classified information." he attempted.  

Kathryn Janeway had absolutely no intention to tell him her name. She had always felt that people, who knew her by name, had a certain amount of power over her, even if that power was just a psychological illusion. In her current predicament, the only defenses she had left were her determination and her pride, and she was not about to see them crushed. Certainly, her name would be the very last thing she would tell this man.  

"My name is none of your business..."  

Her voice failed her as he suddenly surged forward and lowered his face to hers until she could feel his breath hotly on her skin. She tried to turn away, but he kept her head locked in position, placing his strong hands on either side. In her panic, her lungs failed her.   Her eyes grew wide, as he literally breathed at her, 

"In case you haven't noticed, Captain, I'm the one in control here, not you! I'm beginning to loose my temper with you, and -- let me give you a piece of advice -- you don't want to see that happening. It's not a pretty sight, believe me! So, I'd start cooperating if I were you!"  

He did not move away when he had finished but kept his face close to hers and stared menacingly into her eyes.   Janeway swallowed hard, exhaled the breath she had not realized she was holding and barely managed to suppress another shudder. She would not allow herself to be intimidated by this big Indian oath. She had coped with more dire situations in the past -- she could handle this.   Pulling herself together, she spoke in a voice so extremely calm that it came as a surprise to her own ears,  

"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager, and that is all I will ever tell you. You are asking the wrong person if you want information. I won't give it to you. I don't respond well to threats. If you want to torture me, go right ahead, but it won't get you anywhere. I will not cooperate with you!"  

Chakotay was momentarily stunned. This woman, who was by all means in a completely defenseless position, demonstrated more courage than anyone he had ever met, both in Starfleet and the Maquis. Now he understood why Starfleet had sent her on this mission. He admired her courage but was not about to give up on her yet. Smiling mischievously he moved away from her.  

"Well, Kathryn, I'm sure your ship's computer will eventually provide me with all the information I require. Failing that, I believe some of your crew members may prove to be a little more... cooperative."  

Kathryn winced at the use her first name. Just as she had been dreading, he was using her name to gain power over her.  

"Don't you dare call me Kathryn! It's 'Captain' for you!"  

"Such a temper, Kathryn! You may call me Chakotay if you like!"  

He grinned at her and then turned to leave the room.   Janeway panicked. She could not just let him leave her like this. She had to get some answers before he could get away, had to assess her situation and find her crew. She had to know what he had in store for them. Clearly they would all be interrogated thoroughly, but was he willing to use torture or even kill? Was he going to release them at some point in the future? Were they being held to some form of ransom? She knew the Federation would never give in to the demands of terrorists.  

"Chakotay, what are you going to do with us?" she called after him a little too hastily. It almost sounded as if she were pleading with him. She mentally chided herself for the lapse of control.

She was beginning to break. Chakotay could not suppress a victorious grin.  

"For someone, who refuses to answer my questions, you are asking an awful lot of your own, Kathryn!"  

With those words he left her to draw her own conclusions.   She had too many questions and no answers to any of them. Why was he keeping her in his quarters, tied up to a bed? His bed!, she suddenly realized and froze. Her pulse began to pound in her ears, and a fist curled in the pit of her stomach. The room span around, worsening the feeling of nausea. She closed her eyes and sank back into the painless and carefree bliss of unconsciousness.


	4. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As he left his quarters he tapped his combadge.  

"Chakotay to Torres. Report!"  

B'Elanna Torres was attempting to break through the encryption codes of Voyager's main computer.  

"I'm on the new ship, Chakotay. You've got to see this! It's amazing! I've never seen anything like it! The ship has some sort of bio-neural gel packs instead of the usual optical processors. It's revolutionary!"  

An amused grin spread over his face.

"Ok, B'Elanna, I get the message. I'll be there in a moment. Where exactly on the ship are you?"  

"Engineering, Deck 12. I'm trying to hack into their main computer."  

"Well done! Keep up the good work. I'll see you in a few minutes. Chakotay out."    

So she was already tackling the computer. Good, he thought. He would be able to get a lot of information from the data banks, so that he would not be reliant on the results of the interrogations alone. The captain certainly was not going to tell him anything that much was clear. Maybe he should take a look at her ready room while he was on the ship. He had to admit, he was more than a little curious about the woman behind the captain's facade. And, since her departure from the ship had been rather abrupt and unplanned, she may even have left some important data lying around on a padd or her desktop. It would be worth a shot.  Chakotay entered what passed as the Maquis' transporter room which, like most of their technology, had been improvised from a number of different pieces they had been able to get their hands on. It was a miracle that they could get this mishmash of technology to work at all. The room itself was just another small, square-shaped section of the old mining shafts. Unlike most of the base, the transporter room was brightly lit, thanks to the flashing consoles. Lojal, who seemed to be everywhere today, was pulling a duty shift there at the moment. Chakotay gave him a friendly tap on the back when he entered the room. 

"Lojal, beam me up to the vessel, Deck 12, Engineering."  

"Sure, no problem!"

The Bajoran was already entering the coordinates into the console, resisting the urge to ask about the Starfleet captain. It was not easy. He wondered if she had regained consciousness. Obviously she was still alive, otherwise he would have heard. If Chakotay was leaving her alone, did that mean that she was better? Maybe he could find out somehow, later. Reluctantly refocusing his concentration on the task at hand, he energized.  A moment after his molecules had dematerialized in the transporter room, the Maquis captain reappeared in a large room on the vessel. His attention was immediately drawn to the impressive warp core at the far end of the room, its blue light illuminating everything around it. He himself seemed to be standing in an office area. Self-contained workstations and brightly shining consoles flanked the walls of the room, which had two levels. He was on the lower level. The upper level was a gallery, secured with a safety rail, and contained more workstations and consoles. He spotted B'Elanna who was bent over a large console to the left of the impressive warp core, her brow furrowed in concentration.  

"B'Elanna, how's it going?"

She frowned and gave him one of her Klingon gnarls he had gotten quite accustomed to.  

"Whoever did this wasn't stupid, Chakotay. It's going to take me weeks, if not months, to unscramble all this encrypted information -- unless I can come up with the password."  

Her mood had certainly changed in the past few minutes. Her earlier enthusiasm for the ship had given way to frustration over seemingly insurmountable hurdles.  

"I might be able to arrange that. We have their engineer and all the senior officers. I'll start interrogating them tomorrow. I'm sure one of them will talk sooner or later if they know what's good for them. They can't all be as stubborn as their captain."  

"You've already spoken to the captain?"

B'Elanna asked without looking up from the console.  

"Yes."  

"I didn't notice him in the brig earlier, when I took the tour with Seska. Where did you put him?"  

"She is in my quarters. I'll make another attempt at getting her to talk when I'm finished here."  

B'Elanna looked up with a smirk and a sparkle in her eyes.  

"I see. Don't let Seska find her there. She'll go berserk if she finds another woman in your quarters."  

"It's not like that, B'Elanna. She's a hostage."  

"Then why isn't she in the brig with the others?" the half-Klingon countered.  

"I had my reasons for taking her to my quarters."  

"I'm sure you did, Chakotay, but I'm not sure Seska will be as understanding as I am." she teased.  

"Just get into that computer, will you? I'll be taking a look at Decks 1 and 2." Chakotay informed her impatiently.

He was not in a mood for teasing.  

"Oh, by the way Chakotay, were you with the captain when Seska told you about Paris?" she asked, a smug grin on her face.

Chakotay had just about had enough.  

"As a matter of fact I was. Paris won't be going anywhere right now. I'll see to him tomorrow. And as far as Seska is concerned, she can think what she likes. I really don't care. It's been over for a long time. This doesn't concern her."  

"Don't tell me, tell her!" B'Elanna responded, her attention already fully focused on the computer.

She never saw Chakotay's features darken in silent fury as he left engineering and stepped into the turbo lift.  

"Deck 1!" he barked.    

Chakotay entered the bridge, and after a quick glance around the various stations, he entered the captain's ready room. B'Elanna had already managed to disengage all the door locks. That had been the first thing she had seen to, after boarding the ship, in order to make the investigation of the vessel less of an obstacle course for everyone.  His first impression of the ready room was that it looked terribly impersonal. It was all business. If it had not been for a few scattered plants, he would have thought that it had never been used before.

The cold cup of coffee, which still rested on the desk, next to the captain's personal computer terminal, told him otherwise. Although he was primarily looking for information about Voyager's mission in the Badlands, he had hoped to learn a little about her captain, too. Oh well, this was a new ship after all, and she had probably had more pressing concerns than the decor of her ready room.

To make matters worse he discovered that the captain's computer console had been deactivated. He made a feeble attempt to bring it back to life, but soon gave up. He was no engineer. Suddenly something occurred to him. It wouldn't hurt to try... 

"Computer, access biographical information on Captain Kathryn Janeway."  

"That information requires an authorized command code," the neutral female voice of Voyager's computer replied.  

Chakotay sighed. If the computer was refusing to answer this question it most certainly was not going to give him the details of the mission. Maybe a look at the captain's quarters would tell him more...    

He left the ready room and took the turbo lift to Deck 2, where the senior officers' quarters were located. He hoped, he would not have to search for her quarters for too long. The Maquis did not have a complete map of the ship, yet. He would just have to start at one end of the corridor and work his way systematically to the other site.

Chakotay entered the first cabin on the left of the passageway on deck 2, opposite the turbo lift. Not really expecting anything to happen, he ordered the computer to turn on the lights at seventy five percent of full illumination. This time, much to his surprise, the computer complied.   The room he had entered was large, and the entire rear wall was made up of viewports, no doubt allowing for a spectacular view in space. There was a sofa under one of the viewports, behind a glass top coffee table, surrounded by two upholstered chairs. To the right of the room stood a dining table, and a replicator was built into the wall panel next to it. A few plants were scattered around the room, and a half a dozen pictures of stellar phenomena lined the walls. The room was a mixture of command red upholstery and gunmetal gray Starfleet furniture.

To the left he briefly took notice of a desk with a computer terminal...

However, he was drawn to a door just behind it, which led into another part of the quarters. After all, the terminal was not going anywhere.

The door led into the bedroom. Another viewport made up the rear wall under which stood a, by Starfleet standards, rather large bed. A mirrored dressing table to the left of it caught Chakotay's eye. A bottle of perfume and a small make-up case were positioned next to a hairbrush on the surface of the table. Seeing the brush, Chakotay knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had found the captain's quarters. The long auburn strands of hair in the brush were a dead giveaway.

Bull's-eye!

Smiling triumphantly, he turned to examine the wardrobe opposite the bed. As expected a number of black and red Starfleet uniforms, blue turtle necks and matching tank tops hung in line, but he was delighted to see quite a few pieces of civilian clothing as well. He was going to get her out of that uniform. Somehow, seeing her in the command colors made him feel uncomfortable. It was probably the respect for higher ranking Starfleet officers that his time in the 'Fleet had taught him. He had no intention to feel inferior before her -- he simply could not afford to.   On the bottom of the wardrobe, behind a collection of shoes, Chakotay discovered a small travel case. He took it out and placed all the civilian clothes and shoes into it, followed by the perfume bottle, the make-up case and the hair brush. Inspecting further, he opened the drawers of the dressing table. His efforts were rewarded by the sight of several pieces of night wear, and he could not help noticing some pieces of fine lingerie, which stood out among a larger number of Starfleet regulation undergarments. He added them to the other items in the case, allowing himself the luxury of fingering the delicate materials. Unbidden his mind conjured up images of what Kathryn Janeway would look like wearing them. Well, it had been awhile since he had seen a woman in such things... 

Reluctantly he refocused his attention on his mission. He found another door, which led into a small, but perfectly functional bathroom. There was not much room to move about in, however it contained a sonic shower as well as a bathtub.  The perfume of bath oil still lingered in the air. She must have taken a bath that very morning. Finding some shampoo, soap and the bath oil, he packed them as well.

Returning to the bedroom, he discovered a bookshelf, which had so far escaped his notice, since it was halfway hidden behind the door to the lounge area. It contained a modest collection of real paper books. On closer inspection he recognized some nineteenth century novels, Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters mainly, and biographies of Leonardo da Vinci, Galileo and Sir Isaac Newton. For a moment he actually contemplated taking a few of them for her, but then decided against it, furious at himself for even having thought about it. The Maquis base was not a five star hotel. Kathryn Janeway was a hostage, he reminded himself.

Upon reentering the living area, Chakotay's attention was drawn again to the small desktop computer console, which he had briefly glimpsed when he had first entered Janeway's quarters. Much to his surprise he now noted that the screen was active. It had completely escaped him earlier, since he had then only seen the back of the screen. Hoping to find something that might tell him what Voyager had been doing in the Moriya system, he approached the screen... and beheld the picture of a man, about his age.

Janeway had apparently left the picture of a recent transmission on the screen, to serve as a photograph. Obviously this man was important to her, and probably vice versa. He wondered what the relationship between Kathryn Janeway and this man was. The man on the screen appeared to be looking straight at him...

Suddenly he felt as if he were intruding. Kathryn Janeway's private life was really none of his business. He should be concentrating on finding answers about the ship and her mission.

The eyes of the man on the computer screen were still fixed on him. The image was smiling, as if taking a sarcastic pleasure in Chakotay's sudden discomfort. In the heat of the moment, Chakotay deactivated the screen.

What the hell was wrong with him? Was he going to be intimidated by a two-dimensional image, now? Whatever next?

Maybe Seska had been right when she had argued that he was too soft... maybe he just was not cut out for the life of a Maquis resistance fighter...

Was he getting a little too involved with his hostage?

Once again Chakotay wondered if he really belonged where he was. As a boy, and later as a cadet at Starfleet Academy, he had felt neither part of Starfleet, nor had he been able to embrace the customs of his tribe. His soul was divided between both worlds.

Now the same thing was happening again. He desperately wanted to drive the Cardassians from his home, but at the same time he tried to uphold the high moral principles of Starfleet and the Federation.

What he was really desperately searching for was peace -- peace within himself. It was as simple as that and yet a goal seemingly impossible to achieve. At least with the Maquis he had thought he had found a direction, but his recent encounter with Kathryn Janeway seemed to have rekindled the flame of his inner struggle, a flame he had thought permanently extinguished.

He appeared to be destined to live in constant turmoil with himself and the people around him.

Chakotay was furious -- at the Cardassians, the Federation, Seska, Paris, Janeway, the image on the computer screen, and most of all, at himself. Suddenly he felt hot and queasy and had the strong urge to get off the ship, as soon as possible. He fled the captain's quarters, barely allowing enough time for the automatic doors to open for him.

Back in the neutral safety of the corridor he took a deep breath. Rarely had the longing to breathe fresh, clean, natural air been so great, but he knew that this was not going to happen in the near future. Both Voyager and the subterranean Maquis base were relying on recycled air provided by air filtration systems, and the surfaces of the asteroid and nearby planet had no atmosphere -- at least none that he could breathe. He tapped his combadge.  

"Chakotay to Lojal. One to beam down!

  



	5. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Seconds later he found himself back in the transporter room, barely acknowledging Lojal with a brief nod before storming off in the direction of his quarters. The young Bajoran was left with two more questions to ponder. Why was his captain in such a foul mood on a day like this? And what was in that case?     Chakotay had almost made it to his quarters, when Seska called him from one of the narrow side tunnels that branched off from the main passageway.  

"Chakotay! I've been looking for you all over the place!"  

She was the last person he wanted to see right now. He turned toward her impatiently. Not bothering to conceal his annoyance he asked gruffly,  

"What is it, Seska?"  

"I don't understand you, Chakotay. Why are you in such a bad mood? You should be celebrating! You've made a wonderful catch today!"  

"That wonderful catch has given me a lot of work to do. So, if you don't mind, I'll get on with it."  

For a moment she did not know how to respond to his obvious hostility. However , Seska was never one to be short of words...

"Okay, be like that then. Do you think we could have dinner together later? I'm sure I could do something to cheer you up and take the day's stress of your shoulders." she purred, smiling suggestively.  

Her attempt at seduction made his stomach turn. He needed to be alone, to organize his thoughts, and as far as Seska was concerned, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.  

"I don't think so, Seska. What do you actually get out of this? You know that things won't go back to the way they were. I thought, I had made that quite clear to you. I'm sick of being harassed by you, so I would appreciate it if you could stay out of my way in future. It's over, Seska! It's been over for months! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get on with what I was doing!"  

He stormed off, leaving a stunned and for once speechless Seska behind. She decided to let it go for the moment. She would try to talk to him later, when he was more amiable. No point in angering him more.

Kathryn Janeway awoke to a startling sensation. Someone was untying her wrists... Had someone come to her rescue? Had her crew already managed to escape? Full of hope she opened her eyes and froze, when they looked straight into the darkly handsome face of the Maquis captain. Kathryn's heart sank.

Chakotay gave her a warm smile, and still a little dazed, she simply stared at him, mesmerized. When she realized what she was doing, she immediately averted her gaze and blushed violently. When he spoke, his voice contained none of the threatening and mocking tones of their previous exchange.  

"How are you feeling, Kathryn?"  

Clearing her throat she rasped, "I'm fine," in a voice that seemed alien even to her own ears.

It was a lie. She had a terrible headache, and her arms were now completely numb. Her shoulders felt, as if they had been pulled from their sockets, which was no doubt the result of having slept with her arms tied above her head for hours, and her wrists showed deep red marks where Chakotay's belt had cut into her skin. Her throat was even more on fire than before, if that was at all possible. What she would not give for a glass of water... She coughed dryly.

Chakotay stopped what he was doing and raised a glass of cold water to her lips, elevating her head with his free arm. Eagerly she drank. It was just as well he was holding the glass, since she doubted she had the strength to lift it herself. Her body appeared to be entirely made of Jell-O, no bones or muscles at all.   After he had freed her arms, she sat up tentatively, wincing at the spasmodic pains in her neck and shoulders. She felt a little dizzy, and for a moment the room began to spin around her again. Then it subsided. Her hands instinctively moved to her sore neck in an attempt to rub away the agonizing pain that was centered there, but her aching arms made it an impossible task to knead out the knots that had formed there. Tentatively she moved her legs over the side of the bed, until her feet touched the floor.   Chakotay had watched her every move since she had regained consciousness, and it was obvious that she was in considerable pain.  

"Don't lie to me, Kathryn. You're not fine. I'll get you a hypospray for the pain."  

"I said, I'm fine, Chakotay!" she countered angrily.

After all, she had him to thank for the excruciating pain she was suffering now... and now he had decided to play mother hen? Please! She would rather die than accept his help.  

"Oh really? All right, prove it to me. Get up and walk to that door!"  

Kathryn gave him a defiant glare and steeled herself. She would not let him know how weak she really was. She was going to walk to that door, even if it was the last thing she would ever do.

Leaning against one of the bedposts, Chakotay watched the spectacle with sarcasm.

Straightening herself, she used her arms to push herself off the bed and into a standing position. But when she was finally on her feet she could not feel her legs. The bones and muscles still had not returned. Like a rag doll, she began to sink to the floor.   Chakotay , who had observed her very closely, managed to catch her just in time, before she hit the ground. Wordlessly he swept her into his arms and laid her back onto the bed. Kathryn had flushed a deep crimson with indignation and embarrassment.  

"I suggest you stay there for a few more hours, until the antidote has had a chance to fully neutralize the neural toxin in your system. In the meantime, I will give you a hypospray for the pain. And stop lying to me, Kathryn!" 

Chakotay disappeared into an adjacent room for a minute and then returned with a hypospray in his hand.  

"This will make you a little sleepy for awhile..."  

She brought up a hand in a desperate and feeble attempt to stop him from administering the drug.  

"I don't want to go to sleep again. I want to know what you're planning to do with us! I don't want the hypo, I want answers!"  

"This is not about what you want, Kathryn! I'm the one in charge here!"  

With those words he roughly pinned her wrestling arms with one hand and administered the hypospray into the side of her neck with the other. Kathryn struggled in vain against him. She just did not have any strength left in her. It was as if her body had been drained of all its energy. Humiliated and helpless, she felt the pain in her body lessen, and a blissful sleepiness engulfed her.

Chakotay let go of her arm, lay it gently down at her side and began to pace the room. This was hopeless. He would never be able to get any information out of her, and he had no illusions that the Federation would be willing to exchange goods or information for any of the Starfleet crew. He just hoped the other officers were a little more accommodating. What was he supposed to do with this uncooperative hostage? He was not a violent man by nature, so he could not even imagine using torture on her, although he had no scruples using it on Cardassians, but that was different. Kathryn Janeway was not a Cardassian, though. She was human, she was a woman, and above all, she was an innocent bystander in this whole mess.

But he could not let her go, either. She knew too much about the location of the Maquis hideout. However, keeping her and her crew here indefinitely was out of the question. Maybe wit a little clever talking he would be able to convince some of her crew to join the Maquis in their cause. A lot of Starfleet personnel already sympathized with the Maquis -- that was a well-known fact. But he had no such illusions as far as the captain of the U.S.S Voyager was concerned. In the end she was another mouth to feed, and the Maquis had very little resources as it was. He knew what some of his people would suggest: kill her if she refuses to cooperate. But he was not about to let another innocent life perish.

Chakotay stopped his pacing and looked at her prone form on his bed. She looked so vulnerable, lying there. It was difficult to imagine how insufferably stubborn she could be. She was still wearing that darn Starfleet uniform. He promised himself that he would make her change into some civilian clothes the next time she woke up.

Maybe a bath would do her some good, too. She looked like she could do with a little relaxation. It had been a tough day for her. Maybe she would be more cooperative if she were more relaxed.

She looked awfully thin... Probably skipping meals and working too much, he thought, recalling the habits of the captains he himself had served under in the past. He would replicate something light to eat for both of them, when she had had her bath and changed into some fresh clothes, and then he would seriously try to talk some sense into her. After that, he would have her taken to the brig, where the rest of her crew were being kept.  It looked like he had some time to beat until she woke up, so he decided to freshen up a little himself. He went through the door he had earlier sarcastically asked her to walk towards and took a long real water shower. Just in case that she woke up unexpectedly, he left the door wide open, so that he would still be able to keep an eye on her.

At least I won't have to watch her every minute of the day once she's been reunited with the rest of her crew in the brig, he thought wearily.  Chakotay let the hot water stream splash his face, and for a blissful few minutes, he actually managed not to think about the implications of the day's developments. Neither Cardassia, nor the Federation, nor the picture of his incinerated village, nor Seska, Tom Paris or Kathryn Janeway entered his mind. For a scarce few minutes, as the steam of the hot water spread through the bathroom like a fog through his mind, Chakotay was at peace...

He stepped out of the shower and quickly dried himself off. The towel wrapped around his waist, he looked at himself in the mirror. He had not shaved in a few days, and after reassuring himself that Kathryn was still asleep, he decided to treat himself. Life in the Maquis was hectic and unexpected. A real shower and a shave were luxuries he seldom found time for.   Having finished, he walked back into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. He dressed quickly in a pair of brown soft trousers and a beige cotton shirt, which he left unbuttoned around the collar.   Just as he had finished dressing he heard her stir on the bed.   A low moan escaped her as she slowly woke up. Stretching her stiff body, Kathryn Janeway opened her eyes. After the initial confusion of not immediately recognizing her surroundings, her heart sank yet again. She was still a prisoner. Nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing. She felt a little better. The pain, that had earlier paralyzed her, had now reached an acceptable level. Her headache was reduced to a dull pain behind her temples, and her arms felt a lot better. Her neck was still very stiff, and the angry red marks on her wrists burned, but her strength had begun to return. She would certainly be able to make it to that door now, and further.

Slowly she sat up on the bed, her eyes scanning the room for Chakotay, only to see him walking towards her.

He had obviously freshened up and changed his clothing. Kathryn could not help but notice that the contrast between his bronze skin and the beige shirt was extremely becoming. He had shaved, too, and looked a lot less savage now.

She felt a little self-conscious, imagining what a sight she must be. Her hair had partly escaped its restraints, and her uniform was creased badly. How long had she been wearing it? She had no idea how long she had been here. Her make-up had no doubt disintegrated, and she had a pressing urge to go to the toilet -- very pressing as a matter of fact if she did not want to humiliate herself by wetting her uniform.  

"How are you feeling now, Kathryn?"  

"I....I....Could I use your bathroom, please?"  

Chakotay could not help but tease her a little.  

"Sure, it's right through that door if you think you can make it."  

Kathryn gave him an indignant glare and carefully rose to her feet, taking tentative steps. She made it this time.

When Kathryn reemerged from the bathroom, she was greeted by Chakotay at the door, holding out the travel case to her.  

"Why don't you freshen up a little and get a change of clothes? It'll do you good!"

He gave her a gentle smile, and she reached out a hand to take the case, which she recognized as a standard Starfleet issue travel case. Just as she was about to grasp it, Chakotay noticed the red marks on her wrist. He got hold of her arm with his free hand and took a closer look. The marks looked painfully inflamed.  

"Do you have the same thing on the other side?"  

Kathryn nodded once, feeling a little uncomfortable.  

"Alright, have a nice hot bath, and I'll see if I can get my hands on a dermal regenerator."

He walked past her into the bathroom, carrying the case and put it down next to the bathtub. Giving her a last reassuring smile he left.   She heard him lock the door behind him.

Kathryn approached the case, snapped it open and began to inspect its contents. She was surprised to find all her civilian clothes, followed by cosmetics and her brush. On the bottom of the case she found her night wear, her dressing gown and... she gasped in exasperation and simultaneously felt the heat rise in her cheeks, as she discovered that he had packed only her most delicate lingerie. He had not even bothered taking her Starfleet issue underwear.  Apparently indignation was going to be the order of the day. Infuriated, she left the case and turned on the water to fill up the tub. She briefly caught her reflection in a mirror and recoiled. Good god, she thought, I look like hell! And so she did. Her uniform was creased and stained, and her face did not look any better. Dirt stains marked her forehead and cheeks, and her lips were so dry that they had split. Blood had dried in the numerous little cracks. Her hair bore a distinct resemblance to a ruffled bird's nest -- she did not even want to speculate about what she smelled like. Captain Kathryn Janeway was mortified at the thought that someone had seen her like this -- and the Indian Maquis captain of all people!   Oh well, there was nothing she could change about that now, but she could change the way she looked -- and smelled, she added mentally with a grimace of revulsion.   She turned her attention back to the travel case and found the cosmetics box. Opening it, she was glad to see that Chakotay had not only packed her make-up, but also her favorite herbal bath. She added some of it to the bathwater. She was delighted to see that he had packed her shampoo and soap as well.

Back in front of the mirror, she began to tentatively pull the pins from her hair. It took her a while. Moving her arms still caused an unacceptable level of pain. Finally she had extracted the last pin, and her hair cascaded freely down her back. It was always a relief to get those pins out. They tormented her scull. Sometimes she wondered why she was putting herself through this ordeal -- Starfleet protocol and the respect of her crew seemed silly excuses for such torture. She made a mental note to think about wearing it differently when she got out of here -- in a style that caused less discomfort... if she got out of here, she corrected herself and shuddered.  Pushing all negative thoughts aside she began to divest herself of her uniform. When she was standing there in nothing but her Starfleet issue underwear, she got worried. What if he was going to come in? After all, she had been locked in the bathroom from the outside and was not the one in control of her privacy. But then she decided that she really wanted to have that bath. Devil may care! She would worry about an intrusion of privacy when it actually came to it -- if it actually came to it.

It was a wonderful sensation when the hot water caressed her aching muscles. She quickly felt herself relax, as she inhaled the perfume of the herbal bath. Kathryn lay there for a few minutes, eyes closed and concentrating to relax. Who knew, when she would get another chance to do this? Hearing steps in the room on the other side of the door brought her back to reality. She washed herself quickly, and then emerged herself completely in the water, wetting her hair. She lathered the shampoo into her tresses and massaged her skull, once again almost forgetting the outside world. When she had rinsed her hair she got out of the tub, wrapping herself in one of Chakotay's large white towels. She wrapped a smaller one around her head and quickly attended to her make-up, making sure that all the dried blood had been removed from her lips. Then she dried her hair and brushed it into a shine.

She began to relish in her newly found solitude in the bathroom and wished she could stay there for the rest of the day, but she knew that was not going to happen. The reality of her situation was that she was a hostage. Things were not going to be this comfortable for much longer. Soon she would be interrogated and probably tortured... and maybe killed. A shudder crept down her spine and all feeling of comfort was lost. The spell had been broken. She put on a long-sleeved gray cotton dress that went up to her ankles and had a nice V-neck, and some matching shoes.

Before going to the door, she returned all her things to the travel case.   Then, reluctantly, she knocked.  

"Chakotay, I've finished in here."   Footsteps approached the door, and she heard a key turn in the old lock.


	6. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Chakotay opened the door he stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. If it had not been for the angry red marks on her wrists he almost would not have recognized her.

Gods, she's beautiful!, he thought. That Starfleet uniform had done a good job hiding the fact. He had thought her thin and she was, but her body was very well proportioned. The dress she was wearing showed off the gentle curve of her hips, and the V-neck allowed a small glimpse of a very nice cleavage. As she walked past him the perfume of her freshly washed hair assaulted his senses, and he got his first look at the full length of it. It cascaded in soft auburn masses right down to the small of her back. She had styled it in a loose ponytail this time. No doubt the hairpins had caused her some discomfort, especially as she had been lying on them for many hours. For a few seconds Chakotay was speechless. She had sat down on the bed, giving him a questioning glance.

"Well, as you so vehemently pointed out earlier, you are in charge. Where do we go from here?" she asked when he did not say anything.  

Chakotay came out of his trance and focused his thoughts on the things he had planned. He drew a device out of his pocket, and Kathryn recognized it to be one of Voyager's dermal regenerators. He sat next to her on the bed and gently took one of her wrists, running the device over the tender red marks. As they were watching the marks began to faint and eventually vanished altogether. Chakotay repeated the same procedure with the other wrist. Soon there was no sign of the marks left. Holding her wrists, he could not help but notice the softness of her skin. He had to force himself to concentrate on the task at hand, but it was not easy. This was definitely going to be a problem. He had to get her out of his quarters as soon as possible.   Finally he got up, dropping the device back into his pocket.

"I've replicated some soup and bread. I think we could both do with a hot meal. You haven't eaten since you got here, and I haven't had much since, either."   Kathryn had been aware of his stares since she had exited the bathroom and now felt even more uncomfortable in his company than before. She was famished and the mere thought of food made her stomach rumble. However, she did not want to spend anymore time alone with Chakotay then necessary. It was time she joined her crew and got away from him. 

"What about my crew? Have they been given any food and drink?"  

"Don't worry about them, Kathryn. We Maquis look after our guests. They've had at least two meals since you got here."  

"I'd like to see that for myself."  

"You've got to eat something, Kathryn!"  

"I'm sure I can eat in the brig with them!"   Tempers were rising.  

"Kathryn, you are going to eat here with me or not at all!"  

"Fine, I won't eat! Take me to the brig!"  

"You'll not be going to the brig! You'll be staying here! And I'll decide when or if I let you see them, is that understood?"  

What am I saying? I was going to have Lojal take her to the brig right after we had finished eating. What the hell made me say that?, Chakotay thought, a little confused. Damn headstrong woman!  WHAT? Kathryn stared at him wide-eyed. He was going to make her stay in his quarters? Was he out of his mind? And why did he refuse to let her see the crew? Were they in fact all dead? Had he been lying to her all along? Was she the only Starfleet officer left alive? It was the only possible explanation she could think of. Her eyes began to fill with tears, and she fought bitterly to stop them from spilling.  

A clipped "I see." was all she managed without choking.  

"Good, I'm glad we understand each other. Now join me for dinner, or I'll swear I'll force-feed you!"  

Kathryn glared at him,   "Oh, I understand very well, Chakotay. I understand very well that you've been lying to me all along. How did you do it? Throw them out of an airlock? Or did you let the neural toxin take care of everything? Did you enjoy it?"  

"WHAT???"  

Chakotay could not believe she thought him capable of such things. He was deeply shocked.  

"Kathryn, I didn't lie to you. Your crew is in our brig - all of them accounted for and alive. We're taking good care of them and no one's being mistreated, not even that traitor, Tom Paris! You're just going to have to trust me with this one. I won't be ordered around by a hostage. That's why I'll decide whether or not you'll see them and when."  

She looked at him, and he saw worry and grief written all over her delicate features. Never before had he seen her so vulnerable. This captain deeply cared about her crew, and he could not help but admire Kathryn Janeway. He liked this woman, and it pained him to see the tears in her eyes. He knew that those tears would dissipate the instance he took her to the brig and allowed her to see her crew, but he was not going to give into her demands. She was his hostage after all, and as such he had to treat her. If she was going to be stubborn, than so would he.  

"Now I'm going to have my dinner before it gets cold. I strongly suggest you join me."

He turned his back to her and was about to walk into the next room when she, almost imperceptively, called his name.  

"Chakotay?"  

He turned around.  

"Why aren't you keeping me in the brig?"  

"Because you are so very stubborn, Captain!"  

He smiled and for a scant second saw a smile tug at her lips, too, but she suppressed it.   He walked into the dining room and heard her footsteps follow him.

Seska entered the transporter room. It was time to relieve Lojal from his shift.  

"Alright, Lojal, I'm taking over. Have a nice evening!" she said sourly.  

"Everything okay with you, Seska?"   She sighed.

"I just don't know what's gotten into Chakotay today. First I tell him that Tom Paris is among the Starfleet hostages, and he isn't in the slightest bit interested. Says he's busy! And then I run into him in one of the tunnels and find him in a really foul mood. I thought he would be feeling great today, after making such a wonderful catch, but he was just complaining about all the work he has now, because of it. So I asked him if he wants to have dinner with me tonight, and he got furious and gave me all this bullshit about wanting me to keep out of his way. As if that wasn't enough he later ordered me to do the night shift here. Now I ask you, what's wrong with the man?"  

Lojal was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking. Seska, sensing that he was avoiding her gaze, decided to probe a little.  

"Did he tell you what he's been doing all day, Lojal?"  

He did not want to lie to her, but then he certainly did not want to tell her what -- or rather who -- had kept Chakotay occupied all day.  

"Oh, you know, he's been inspecting the Starfleet vessel, he's had a look at the crew and he's been trying to get information out of the captain."  

"I don't remember seeing the captain in the brig when I was there earlier. Where is he interrogating him?"  

Lojal hesitated, then said lamely,  

"Oh, I think he wanted to be a little more comfortable as the interrogation was going to take some time. Apparently the captain is proving to be a little uncooperative. So he's doing it in his quarters."  

Lojal deliberately avoided making any reference to the captain's gender. He had absolutely no intention to tell Seska that the captain was a woman. He knew she would fume with rage if she ever found out. Despite the fact that their relationship had ended almost a year ago, Seska still behaved as though she had a right on Chakotay. She would never let another woman get close to him. Of course it was only a matter of time before she was going to uncover the truth, but he sure as hell did not want to be the one to enlighten her. Making a quick exit he secretly vowed to steer clear of Seska for the foreseeable future.    

Seska frowned. Never before had Chakotay taken a prisoner to his quarters. Something was not quite right here. She had the nagging feeling that Lojal was not giving her the whole story, but it was obvious that he was not going to tell her anymore. Somehow she would have to find the answers to her questions herself, and soon. She was going to get out of this duty shift somehow. Chell was off tonight, and he still owed her a favor or two. A voice over the intercom interrupted her thoughts.  

"B'Elanna to transporter room."  

Seska's ears perked up. Maybe B'Elanna knew the answers. The half-Klingon and Chakotay were close. After all, he was in the habit of telling her almost everything, which was precisely why she cherished B'Elanna as a friend.  

"Hello B'Elanna! It's Seska. How're you doing up there?"  

"Hi Seska! I've finished here for today. I've got three to beam down."  

"Alright. Energizing!"  

Seconds later B'Elanna Torres and two other Maquis engineers materialized in the transporter room. B'Elanna turned to her companions,  

"Alright, I see you two here at 6:00 hours tomorrow. Don't be late!"  

The man and woman she had been working with most of the day nodded and left.   Now B'Elanna turned to Seska.  

"Hey, Seska! How's it going? I didn't know you were pulling the night shift here."  

"Yes, courtesy of Chakotay. I was hoping to spend some time with him tonight, but he said he was busy and put me on duty." Seska said in her best "hurt woman" impression.  

Clever move, Chakotay!, the half-Klingon thought, instantly catching on to the fact that it was Chakotay's way of making sure that Seska did not get in the way. Of course she could not tell Seska that.  

"I suppose he's got a lot on his mind right now, Seska."  

"That's an understatement. The last time I saw him he told me to stay out of his way. I don't understand what's wrong with him. Lojal just told me he's been questioning the Starfleet captain all day -- in his quarters! Can you believe that? He's never interrogated hostages in his quarters before. Hell, even I have trouble getting into the holy grail! And would you believe he still hasn't had a look at Paris? He hates the rat! I thought he would have wrung his neck by now, but he's not in the slightest bit interested."  

It was B'Elanna's turn to feel uncomfortable. Apart from Chakotay, Seska was her best friend. But, just like Lojal, she did not want to be the one to give Seska the facts, either. Chakotay was like a brother to her. She would never betray his confidence. She was certain he did not want Seska to know about Janeway. If anyone were going to tell Seska, it would have to be Chakotay himself and no one else. B'Elanna attempted to placate her friend.  

"Maybe he's having trouble with the captain, Seska. Those Starfleet bigwigs can be damn trying! I should know! I spend two years at Starfleet Academy arguing with the bastards! He probably isn't getting the information he wanted, and that's what's making him so edgy. As a matter of fact he came up to the vessel earlier to see how I was doing with the computer. He said the captain was proving to be rather stubborn, and he'd like to get the facts from the computer if possible. I wouldn't worry too much, if I were you. It'll probably pass soon."

B'Elanna announced nonchalantly, trying to fend off any other questions Seska might have in stock for her. The half-Klingon yawned and added,  

"Well, I've had a pretty trying day myself attempting to crack that damned Starfleet computer. I think I'll turn in for the night. I have another long day tomorrow. I'll see you then, and stop worrying about Chakotay. He'll be alright when this is over."

B'Elanna gave Seska a reassuring smile and left.

"See you tomorrow, B'Elanna!" Seska called after her friend as she headed for her quarters -- at least that's where Seska thought she was going.    

When B'Elanna was sure that she was out of Seska's earshot she tapped her combadge.  

"Torres to Chakotay!"


	7. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chakotay and Kathryn were sitting opposite each other at the dining table. None of them had spoken since they had sat down to eat. Kathryn had diligently focused her attention on the bowl of vegetable bouillon and the slice of crusty bread in front of her, as if they were the most intriguing objects she had ever set eyes upon. She desperately wanted to avoid looking at the man opposite her.  

"What is it this time, B'Elanna?"

Was there ever going to be an end to the interruptions?  

"Chakotay, I'm on my way to your quarters. I urgently have to speak to you!"  

"B'Elanna, I'm busy here. It'll have to wait."  

"This can't wait, Chakotay. I'll be there in a minute."  

"Torres, I told you I don't want to be disturbed now!" he droned into the communicator.

There was no response.   For the first time since they had sat down to dinner, Kathryn looked up with the sparkle of amusement in her eyes. It seemed that the Maquis captain had serious problems keeping discipline within his cell.   A moment later his door chime sounded. Chakotay was beginning to loose his temper.  

"Come!" he barked as he got up and walked to the entrance door to his quarters. Kathryn strained her ears, trying to follow the conversation in the next room.  

"This had better be good, Torres!"  

B'Elanna ignored his obvious anger at her intrusion and entered.  

"Chakotay, you're in trouble!"  

"What?" he asked incredulously. What the hell was this about now? For a brief moment he feared that Starfleet had set a trap with Voyager, and they had walked right into it. But then B'Elanna continued.  

"Seska has smelled the rat, Chakotay! She's heard somewhere that you have the captain in your quarters. Thank Kahless she hasn't figured out yet that the captain is a woman! But that's only a matter of time now. She's going to be frantic when she finds out what's going on here! She'll probably vaporize both of you on the spot! Chakotay, you know her temper! It's even worse than mine!"  

Chakotay lifted a hand to cut her off.  

"That's enough, Torres. What I do is none of Seska's business. She doesn't own me. I've told her to stay out of my way. I'm sick of Seska, B'Elanna! I want her out of my life!" he yelled.    

"What's going on here?"  

Chakotay and B'Elanna turned in unison to the source of the voice. Kathryn Janeway was standing on the threshold between the dining room and the lounge, a totally commanding presence despite the fact that she was not in uniform.   B'Elanna found herself staring at the graceful woman in the doorway, so flabbergasted by her sudden appearance that she was unable to say anything for a moment. She sure could understand why Chakotay liked her company. She was beautiful. Having made it this far up the career ladder she had to have brains, too. Hell, intelligence virtually sparkled in her eyes. Chakotay was the first to recover his voice.  

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Kathryn. Just a private little squabble."  

Quickly recovering from her initial shock of meeting the Starfleet captain, B'Elanna grunted,  

"Chakotay, don't tell me later that I didn't warn you! If Seska finds her here, she'll have you both thrown out of the nearest airlock or handed over to the next Cardassian convoy, if not worse!"  

Kathryn Janeway was the only one in the room who still managed to appear calm and controlled.  

"Who's Seska?" she inquired matter-of-factly, approaching the quarrelling twosome as if she were interrogating them in her ready room aboard Voyager.  

Chakotay had heard enough and he was not about to let Kathryn hear anymore of this, neither was he going to be interrogated by his hostage, especially not in front of a member of his cell.  

"Torres, I want you out of here now! I appreciate your concern, but I'll handle things from here!"  

B'Elanna opened her mouth as if to say something more, then glanced from Chakotay to Janeway and back and thought better of it. With a snarl that would have made her Klingon mother very proud, she stormed out of Chakotay's quarters.   Kathryn made a mental note of the fact that, despite the obvious lack of discipline among the Maquis, Chakotay somehow maintained control over them. What was it that made these people respect him so much without the corset of protocol? She was eager to discover the reason, but for now she would settle for an answer to her first, rather more pressing inquiry.    

"Chakotay, please answer my question this time. Who is Seska?" Janeway urged, now visibly worried.  

Measuring her he let out a long sigh of resignation. He would have to tell her something, otherwise she would not give him a minute's rest.  

"I'll tell you over dinner. Come and sit down again."  

He led her back to the table. She gave him a questioning glance, which virtually demanded an answer.   Chakotay inhaled deeply and started,  

"Alright then. Seska is a Bajoran who works for me. She was the first person to join my cell. Her family was killed by Cardassians during the Bajoran occupation. Mine had been killed just days before I joined the Maquis, when the Cardassians incinerated my village."

Chakotay looked down at his plate and rubbed his chin. This was difficult. Janeway's gaze continued to scrutinize him. He realized that he had her full attention, now that she was waiting for her answer. She had hardly touched her food. Why could he not manage to get that same amount of attention from her when he wanted to know something? A brief flash of anger shot through him, but he managed to get himself under control and commenced,   

"We were both alone and had gone through a tragedy, so we found comfort in each other."

There was a short period of silence between them. 

"Is Seska your lover?" she suddenly demanded point-blankly.

Chakotay's head shot up to look at her -- a little shocked at her bluntness. Recovering quickly he shook his head.  

"She was, but she isn't anymore. Shortly after we got together she began to ignore and contravene my orders. I called the relationship off once and for all, then."  

Kathryn gave him a bewildered look. If he had terminated the relationship, why would Seska still make this her business? Unless he had done so only recently, and Seska had not accepted yet, that they were finished. Hesitantly she asked,  

"When did you terminate this relationship?"  

Chakotay smiled at her perception, lowering his gaze once again. He took another deep breath, then looked straight into her blue eyes.  

"Almost one year ago, but she continues to think of me as her property. I knew that getting involved with a member of my cell could cause problems, but I had never expected it to be so bad. It was a mistake I'm not likely to make again. B'Elanna is right. Seska has a violent temper. I'm going to have to keep her away from you, now that she knows that you've been in my quarters all this time."  

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Both of them were immersed in thought. Eventually it was Kathryn who spoke and broke the silence.  

"Why did you bring me here?"  

She had found it highly unusual -- to say the least -- for a terrorist to keep his hostage in his own quarters, especially when he had an entire brig at his disposal.   Chakotay smiled as he recalled the moment he had first set eyes on her.  

"When I first saw you, you were lying unconscious on the ground in our brig. Your crew had already received the antidote to the neural toxin. I had given orders to leave the captain until last. I wanted to use his weakness during interrogation. But had I known that the captain was a woman, I would never have given those orders. A woman's physiology is somehow stronger effected by this particular toxin. I never expected Starfleet to send a female captain into this hellhole. Actually, I consider it damn careless of them!"  

Kathryn Janeway gave him a frosty glare.  

"I earned this assignment, and I would appreciate it if you kept your chauvinistic opinions to yourself, Chakotay!"  

Chakotay's features darkened.  

"I'm not a chauvinist, Kathryn, and I can tell that you've earned this mission, but I'd hate to see what the Cardassians would do to you if you were to fall into their hands. You have no idea what they do to their female prisoners."  

Kathryn's blood was beginning to boil. How dare he speak to her as if she were a child? And how dare he patronize her and say that she did not know? And was he, who was keeping her hostage at this very moment, really any better than the Cardassians? He would yet have to prove that to her... 

"As a matter of fact I know exactly what they do, Chakotay! I had the privilege to find out a few years back, when I was taken prisoner by the Obsidian Order. So don't tell me that I don't know!" she roared, unshed tears shining in her eyes as the memory of that terrifying time returned.

She was shaking with fury -- a lump was choking her throat. Fuming, she wiped at a solitary tear that had made its way down her cheek.   Chakotay felt as if he had just been struck by a lightning-bolt. Instinctively he grasped her hand over the table and held it gently between his, drawing comforting circles on it with his thumbs.  

"I'm sorry, I had no idea." he choked, his gaze resting tenderly on her as tears were threatening to overcome him, too, at the thought of the possible ordeals that she had gone through.

He had never been captured by Cardassians himself, but he had heard enough to know that most people did not make it out of their prisons alive, and the Obsidian Order had been the most violent and unrelenting force in Cardassia. Kathryn was extremely lucky to have come out of it alive.   As if she had been burned, Kathryn Janeway snatched her hand away and retorted,  

"Well, those are things of the past. We've got a peace treaty with them, remember? A treaty that put an end to all the horrors and the bloodshed! A treaty that you and your fellow renegades are placing in jeopardy with your silly private little war. Don't expect me to lend you a hand! I've had my fair share of experience with Cardassian cruelty, and I'm more than happy to opt for peace for a change! I will do everything in my power to prevent people like you from starting a war between the Federation and the Empire!" she exclaimed heatedly.  

Did she really believe all this? Chakotay could not believe that she could be so entirely ignorant of the reality of everyday life in the DMZ.  

"Kathryn! Why do you think the Maquis are fighting the Cardassians? They are driving us from our homeworlds. They are the ones who are jeopardizing the treaty! This is the DMZ. Would you care to explain to me why they have countless warships stationed here? Why they attack our people? Why people here are killed everyday? Why they torture us and rape our women? Why they murder our children? It's called genocide, Kathryn! And Starfleet turns a blind eye to it all! Do you expect us to just stand by and let them do this to us?"  

Kathryn stared at him incredulously.  

"Do you really expect me to believe all this? The Cardassians want this treaty just as badly as the Federation. They wouldn't dare to commit such atrocities. The Federation would never allow it!"  

Exasperated, Chakotay measured her for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. When he had himself a little better under control he concluded icily,  

"This won't get us anywhere. We should drop the subject."  

"Agreed." Kathryn replied likewise.   They both turned their attention back to their meal and waited for the atmosphere to cool. The food that they had both craved earlier had suddenly acquired a bitter taste and was difficult to swallow. They had both lost their appetite.  

Several minutes passed in yet more uncomfortable silence. Finally Kathryn muttered,  

"So, why did you bring me here?"  

Chakotay's expression mellowed at her return to the previous topic.  

"When I found you curled up on the ground in the brig, I noticed that you were suffering from the early stages of hypothermia. We had left it a little long with the antidote. The brig isn't heated, and you were unconscious and icy. I decided it would be best to take you here, where it's warm and dry, and where I could keep a close eye on your recovery."  

Kathryn Janeway was utterly dumbfounded. Her mind tried to process what he had just told her. He might well have saved her life. Of course, if it had not been for him, her life would not have been at risk in the first place. But that did not change the fact that he had looked after her, when he could have simply left her to die. Apparently there was more to Chakotay than his Starfleet records had told her.  When she finally found her voice, she said,  

"Thank you. I had no idea the Maquis took such good care of their prisoners."  

Chakotay sighed sadly,  

"Not all of us do, I'm afraid. I don't hold a grudge against you personally, Kathryn. You had your orders. But I resent the Federation for deserting us."

When he saw renewed fire sparkle in her eyes he quickly added,

"Don't worry, I won't start on the subject again. I think it's time we both got some rest. We've both had a long day, and tomorrow will be quite busy. I suggest we get some rest."  

He tapped his combadge.      

The place was filthy. They really had to find a better routine when it came to cleaning up the galley, but nobody ever wanted to do it, and now that they had the new ship, there was no way anyone would stir a finger here.

It was dark, like most of the base, since it was subterranean and they could not afford to waste their precious power supplies on trivial things like apt illumination. Large round columns supported the vaulted ceiling. Dirty plates, cups and glasses littered every one of the rectangular wooden tables. Their Cardassian predecessors had left the tables and matching benches. Cardassian symbols, no doubt carved by bored Cardassian guards more than 500 years ago, defaced all of them -- a constant reminder of the enemy. And you were supposed to enjoy your meal here. Ha!

Lojal stared at his plate. It could have been worse. At least the replicators were working, so the food was quite decent. He had replicated himself a small portion of Bajoran foraiga, with tuwaly pie for dessert and some ginger tea to wash it down. All these dishes had been extremely rare on Bajor during the Cardassian occupation. He felt as if he were truly indulging tonight, but it had been a long and successful day, and this was Lojal's way of celebrating their success.

There was something about replicated seafood. It always tasted slightly off. Kind of synthetic, he thought. Well, synthetic it was. He managed another few forks full off the foraiga and then allowed his eyes to take a bored journey around the room.

The galley was almost deserted. Usually there would be quite a crowd at this time of night, but most people were either on the new ship or resting after a long day's work. Not even Kurt Bendera was here tonight. Usually Lojal took his meals in the company of Bendera, and sometimes even Chakotay, since Bendera and the captain were old friends. Apparently they knew each other from a mining colony on Telfas Prime... that was all Lojal knew.

Bendera had probably spent the day on the vessel, since he was part of the engineering team. Voyager surely had caused quite a stir. Lojal had not yet had the chance to look around her himself. He had spent all day transporting people on and off the vessel and looking after the Starfleet hostages in the brig.

Why do I always end up with the boring jobs, he thought.  Although guard duty in the brig had proven to be a lot more exciting than he had expected. Seska and B'Elanna had identified the traitor, Tom Paris, among the Starfleet crew. The son of a bitch had been trying to get his sorry ass out of jail via helping the Federation to track down his 'friends' in the Maquis. Bastard! He hoped Chakotay would allow him to finish Paris off, but knowing his captain, that was not about to happen.   And then there had been the Starfleet captain. Saving her had made him feel good. If another Maquis had been in his place at the time, she most probably would not have made it through the day. Lojal had been the one to carry her into her cell. She had been so pretty and as light as a feather. She had also felt like an ice block.

He had contacted Chakotay, asking him to come to the brig. He had not told him about the captain, though. That was supposed to be a surprise, and it sure had been. Lojal grinned, as he remembered Chakotay's expression of incredulity and amazement. But then her condition had proved to be a little more serious than Lojal had thought, and he had felt guilty about not telling Chakotay sooner. Of course he had not told his captain about the unnecessary delay...

Then it had been Lojal who had gotten a surprise when Chakotay had taken the unconscious woman to his quarters, something Lojal himself would have very much liked to do, since she was so lovely.   Was Chakotay out of his mind? Most of the Maquis would strongly disapprove -- if they had been given free reign, this day would have turned out a lot bloodier.

And did Chakotay not realize what Seska would do if she ever found out? It had been a close call in the transporter room. He had been such an idiot! What the hell had come over him to tell her that Chakotay was busy with the captain -- and in his quarters? The Maquis leader was going to stick him into a torpedo tube and blast him into a Cardassian Galor Class war ship if he ever caught wind of it...  What was he doing with her in there anyway? Of course he was trying to get her better, but Lojal was dying to find out what was transpiring in the Maquis captain's quarters. Maybe he could come up with some excuse to go down there...

"Chakotay to Lojal!"

His fork hit the plate with a loud clang when his captain's voice shocked him out of his musings. Quickly he swallowed what he had in his mouth, almost choking on it, and answered,  

"Lojal here! What can I do for you, Chakotay?"  

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this time, Lojal. I know you've had a hard day, but I can't ask anyone else to do this. It's about the captain. She's going to spend the night here, and I need some sheets, a blanket and a pillow. Could you help me out, old friend?"  

Lojal could not conceal the smirk that was creeping over his features. Just when he had been about to find an excuse to come past Chakotay's quarters... And now he had an invitation!  

"Sure! No worries! I'll be around in a few minutes. Is that all?"  

"Yes, thank you Lojal. I really appreciate this."  

Lojal left the table and took his dishes to the replicator to be recycled. Why could not everyone do it this way? There would be a lot less mess around the place. He sighed and walked off to get the bedding.   As he left the galley a Bajoran woman moved out of the shadow of a column close to the table he had sat at. She would show Chakotay what it meant to betray her like this! He would regret every second of his little liaison. How could he prefer that Starfleet bitch to her? What? He could not have a relationship with a subordinate, but with a hostage it was okay? Oh, he would regret this until the end of his days. She would make sure of it. No one ever crossed Seska!   I'll teach you, Chakotay! I'll teach you all!

Fuming with an all-consuming rage, she stormed off to her quarters.


	8. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Once the door had shut behind her, she grabbed the first thing her hands could find and flung it across the room. The chair crashed loudly into the Cardassian antique mirror that hung on the wall at the far end of her quarters where, in a normal room, one would have expected a window. But since the base was underground, mirrors were an adequate substitute. The slightly stained reflective glass shattered noisily into a thousand tiny fragments. Unfortunately this still did not make her feel any better. She was consumed with a burning rage.

Although she had never really loved Chakotay, her ego was wounded at the thought of him preferring the company of a hostage, a Starfleet captain -- the enemy! Then again, she herself was the enemy, but poor old Chakotay did not know that. Oh, this insult would cost him bitterly!   So far she had been very kind to him, giving only tiny snippets of information to her people, because she had enjoyed his company. She had enjoyed it quite a bit, actually. Even after he had put an end to their relationship, almost 11 months ago, she had still tried to get him back from time to time. And although she had never succeeded, she had been certain that she would one day. It had become an entertaining game. But now he had withdrawn himself from her completely, gone to another, and she would not tolerate it. This would cost him all he had worked for since he had joined the Maquis, and more! The fool!   Seska approached her personal replicator and removed the control panel, revealing a small device that resembled a tricorder. In fact it was a long-range communications device, given to her by the Obsidian Order.   Seska had infiltrated Chakotay's cell as a Cardassian spy who had been genetically altered to appear Bajoran. Every three days she was to report to her contact in the Obsidian Order, giving him as much strategical information about the Maquis and their plans as she saw fit. This was what had originally prompted her to get to know the Maquis captain better. However, after a while she had come to enjoy his company. Not only had he satisfied her personal needs -- after all, he was a very attractive man by most standards and an extremely passionate lover -- but he had also granted her privileges, like the personal replicator, and he had treated her with respect until today.   It was all over now, and she was going to teach him a lesson he would not be able to forget easily.   Seska entered an encryption code into the communications device, which was now resting on a table in front of her. Her voice was hushed...   "This is Seska to Gul Camet. Respond!"   The tiny viewscreen came to life, at first showing only static, but then clearing up to reveal the upper body of a Cardassian man. The black of his eyes and hair and the prominent cartilages that corded his face and neck lend him an imposing presence.

"Seska! Your report is not due for another twenty-eight hours. I take it you have important news." the Cardassian's voice rasped over the transmitter.

Seska smiled almost seductively, clearly pleased with herself.  

"Oh, I have news alright. Enabran Tain will be very pleased with me this time, Camet. I will transmit the data to your computer. It contains the phase variance for the modulation of the shielding that protects the Maquis base, as well as details on their defense systems." the woman beamed.

Excitedly she continued,  

"And there is more. Just today the Maquis managed to abduct a very impressive Starfleet vessel. It's a prototype. It must have taken them years to develop it. It will give the Order great power over the Federation. Simply having their most recent technology will be of great help, should we enter into a war with them. But now we can have the ship as well!"   She had the gul's full attention now. He was clearly excited about the prospect of securing the Starfleet prototype for the Order. No doubt his superiors would be very happy with him, if he could bring them such a treasure. And Starfleet would never know who had run off with their prototype. They would probably presume that it had either been destroyed or taken by another Maquis cell.   His eyes became almost predatory as he acknowledged what she had revealed.  

"This is promising news! I'm glad you finally made some progress with you investigations. I was beginning to think you were keeping things deliberately from us."

"Now why would I do a thing like that, Camet?" she chanted innocently.

Camet ignored her.

"Where is the crew of the Starfleet vessel now?"  

"The Maquis are keeping them in their brig. Chakotay wants to start interrogating them tomorrow. He's already started with the captain."  

"Do you know who the captain is? Anyone I might know?"  

Seska hesitated for a moment. Now that she thought about it she really knew very little about the Starfleet captain, except for the fact that it was a woman.  

"I'm afraid I can't give you a name yet. The only thing I know is that it's a woman."  

The Cardassian's ears almost visibly perked up at her last remark.  

"Can you describe her to me?" he asked with a sudden urgency that Seska could not comprehend.  

"No, I haven't actually seen her yet."  

Camet frowned.

"Find out who she is and report back to me straight away. I will inform Tain of your report. We'll keep you updated about any further plans. Camet out!" the Cardassian hissed just before the small screen went blank.  

A vicious grin of satisfaction on her face, Seska returned the transmitter to its hiding place.

Several light-years away, Gul Camet agitatedly paced his office on his Galor Class warship, the Tokar Zebok. He was very excited about the information Seska had just relayed -- not only about the strategical details, but mostly about the identity of the Starfleet captain.

For over a decade now he had been preoccupied with tracking down an escaped prisoner, with whom he had unfinished business. Then just an ensign, the woman had been captured together with a Starfleet Admiral, whilst they had attempted to land their shuttle on one of the moons of Urtea II, no doubt to collect intelligence from an array the Federation had installed there months before.

Camet, who had been in charge of their interrogation, had suspected that the array was not simply gathering scientific -- but also strategical data on the Cardassian military. The conflict between the Cardassian Empire and the Federation had been at its peak then. War had seemed imminent.   They had taken the old man and the young woman to one of their prison camps and started interrogation on the Admiral immediately. No matter how much pain they had inflicted on him with the torture device that they had implanted in his body, no matter how many times they had brought him to the edge of death with their torment, the man would not tell them anything. In the end Camet had decided to get the answers elsewhere -- from the young woman.   He, himself, had gone to fetch her. They had kept her in a small pen, not tall enough to stand or even sit upright. She had barely enough air to breathe, and not a single ray of light had been able to make its way through the solid cold metal casing.

When Camet had opened the panel to get her out, she had barely been able to stand, her eyes squinting and her head lowered as a defense against the harsh light that assaulted her senses. As her legs buckled back into the fetal position they had been forced to hold for hours, while she had been caged in the pen, he had steadied her and for the first time really taken in her appearance. Although shivering from the cold that had crept from the metal box right down to her bones and disheveled from her ordeal, he could not help but notice that she was extremely lovely. And while speaking false words of comfort and apology to her, he had secretly decided to give her his full attention later that night. If she would not talk during interrogation, maybe she would talk once he got his hands on her in a more... intimate way. In his experience, this special way of interrogating female prisoners had proved to be extremely effective, and when the subject in question was as attractive as this one, it was a special joy on his part.   By the time they arrived at the interrogation chamber he had run a dozen possible scenarios of amusing himself with her in his mind. He wanted to run his fingers through her soft auburn hair right then and there, touch her soft pale skin and make her scream in agony as he forced himself upon her time and again...

But first things first. After all, he had not desired the wrath of his superiors to decent upon him for not following proper procedure. So he had gone through with the standard questioning. Her name, she had told him, was Kathryn Janeway. She had informed him that they had been on a scientific mission to collect data on massive compact halo objects from the array they had previously established on the moon. When he had asked her why the array contained extremely sophisticated surveillance devices, she had feigned ignorance and even boldly accused him of paranoia. Her courage had impressed him -- he had not expected it from an ensign. He had had no doubt that she would go a long way in Starfleet, given the opportunity. Of course she would never get the chance to prove his point, since she was never going to get out of the prison camp alive. He might make her his mistress for a while, but eventually she would be killed, and he was planning on seeing to that personally...   Not getting anywhere with her the gentle way, he had threatened her with the torture implant, making it quite clear that once he would start inflicting pain on her, there would be no stopping him. It was a control game he loved to play. He got great satisfaction from completely breaking another being, and he had told her so in no uncertain words.   Yet she had proven to be most uncooperative. Not wanting to deface her too much, so he could still enjoy her beauty whilst giving her the special treat he had in mind for her, he had her taken back to the pen and submitted her to the screams of her superior officer, as the torture device brought him countless times to the brink of insanity and death.   Remarkably, still neither the ensign nor the admiral had relented.

He recalled the incidence as if it had been yesterday.

"Alright, Kathryn Janeway, have it your way! Guards! Take the admiral into the yard! Assemble the firing squad!"

Turning back to Kathryn he rasped into her ear,

"You, my dear , will have the pleasure of watching your superior die! Then we'll have a little party, just you and me -- alone, in my quarters..."

He gave her a leer that sickened her to the stomach, his foul breath nearly suffocation her. Then he forced his lips over hers, holding her head tightly in place with his large reptilian hands and crushing her mouth in a bruising caricature of a kiss. The assault lasted for what had seemed like an eternity to Kathryn. She thought she was going to die of revulsion right there and then -- his vile breath forcing its way past her lips, invading her body, causing the bile to rise up within her, despite the fact that she was doing her best to hold her breath. Horror crept over her skin like a thousand leeches...

When he finally let her go, she knew with indubitable certainty that she and Owen Paris were going to die in this prison, but the admiral had decisively gotten the better deal... She began to shiver uncontrollably as her mind unbidden conjured up images of what Camet would do to her before he would finally allow her to join the admiral...

Gul Camet decided to finish the preliminary paperwork on the case, before giving the order to terminate the admiral, so that he could enjoy the rest of the evening without having to finish off reports. He ordered the admiral to be tied to a post in the prison yard, whilst Kathryn was shoved back into the metal pen. The report was only going to take him half an hour...

He was forever to regret this move . The admiral and the young woman had been rescued by Starfleet rangers before he had finished writing his report, leaving Camet to explain his failure to his superiors. They had -- to say the least -- not been pleased. He had been demoted from chief interrogator of the prison camp to ordinary guard in a Bajoran labor camp, a great dishonor within the Obsidian Order, but he was lucky he had gotten away with his life.

On top of that he had been so aroused at the prospect of taking the young woman that he was left with unbearable sexual frustration.   A few hours later, news reached him that his second born son had been killed in conflict with the rangers. Rumor had it that Kathryn Janeway had been the one to kill him with a phaser.   Since then, Gul Camet had kept his eyes wide open for the woman. He still wanted her just as much as on that fateful day, over more than a decade ago, even more so, because now he had a personal score to settle with her. He had felt deeply ashamed of his second-born. He had died in dishonor -- shot by a human woman who had by all means been weakened from her time in the prison, and who should have been utterly defenseless. How she had managed to get hold of a phaser was beyond him.   Once he had gotten word about her through a Cardassian spy who had infiltrated a Starfleet vessel. He had asked the spy, who happened to be a friend who owed him a few favors, to go through the Library Computer Access and Retrieval System aboard the Starfleet vessel and look up her name. That had been almost five years ago, now, and the computer had found one match only -- one Commander Kathryn Janeway. Considering her previous progress in the command structure she should have made "captain" by now.   There were not that many female captains in Starfleet, as its very military structure did not seem to appeal very much to human females -- and the large majority of Starfleet captains were human, since the organization was based on Earth and required Earth standards to enter its Academy.

He had never found himself so eagerly looking forward to Seska's next report. He had a feeling about this one -- he was almost certain that he had finally found her. A predatory grin crossed his coarse features as he contemplated a possible reunion with his former prisoner.

The door chime sounded.  

"Come in, Lojal!" Chakotay called out as he walked from the dining area to the lounge room to receive the Bajoran. Lojal entered the room, barely fitting through the doors, weighed down as he was by the mountain of blankets, sheets and pillows.  

"You can put it down on the couch. Thank you, Lojal. I really appreciate this." he said, tapping the Bajoran's shoulder.   

"Don't mention it, Captain."  

Having alighted himself of the bedding he stood awkwardly, taking in his surroundings. After all, he had not just come to do his captain a favor. He wanted to know what had happened to the Starfleet captain. Stealing a look through the doorway that led from Chakotay's lounge to the dining room, his eyes finally fell on her as she sat at the dining table.

At first he almost had not recognized her in her civilian dress and with her hair down. She was even more beautiful then he had thought. No wonder Chakotay had spent nearly the entire day with her. Lojal could not resist the temptation to address her...  

"Feeling better, Captain?" Lojal asked, increasing the volume of his voice, so it would carry into the next room, and looking straight at her. A little startled, she looked up and was just about to answer him, when Chakotay hinted none to gently,  

"That will be all, Lojal. Thank you. I'll see you in the morning."

Realizing that his absence was desired, Lojal left Chakotay's quarters -- a little disappointed -- but at least he had actually seen the Starfleet captain, which was more than most of the Maquis could claim.

Kathryn Janeway stepped towards the couch and began to spread one of the sheets over it, tugging its ends under the lush upholstery.  

"I'll do that, Kathryn."

Chakotay declared, taking the sheet out of her hands and continuing where she had left off.   Incredulously she stared at him.  

"I can make my own bed, Chakotay." she objected a little bemused.  

"You'll have the bed." he stated matter-of-factly, gesturing towards the bedroom.   She was not going to give in this time.

She needed to be in the lounge room tonight. It was the only room with a door that led out of his quarters. She had to make an attempt at escape. It would be difficult enough with him sleeping two rooms away from her, in the bedroom, but there was no way she was going to make it out of here with him camping out next to the door like a guard dog.   And anyway, did this big Indian really think he could fit onto that small couch? Even she would have to crouch a little to be able to sleep on it, and she was considerably smaller than he.  

"Chakotay, I appreciate the gesture, but I'll take the couch."

Before he could argue she added,  

"I'm smaller than you and far better suited to take the couch."  

She gave him a glance that clearly communicated that she would not take 'no' for an answer on this matter. Having scrutinized her for a moment, he eventually let go of the sheet and relented, albeit hesitantly. Of course she was absolutely right. He could not argue with her logic. And it was not like she could escape to anywhere. The door would only open with a special code which only he knew, and even then she would not be able to get out of the base, unless she could find her way through the labyrinth of tunnels to one of the docking bays. 

"Alright, you have the couch then. I'll be in the bedroom. Good night, Kathryn."  

Standing next to the couch she nodded.

"Good night." she said, as he left for the bedroom, then returned her attention to the task at hand.

  



	9. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Once she had composed herself a little, Seska made her way back to the transporter room where Chell, a friendly overweighed Bolian, was now pulling her duty shift. Well, of course he was overweighed. Who has ever seen a skinny Bolian? And, like all Bolians, he talked decidedly too much.

"Hello, Chell! Thanks again for the favor. Chakotay asked me to get something he forgot on the vessel, when he beamed aboard earlier. Can you get me up there?"

"Sure! Hasn't it been an exciting day? Have you been up to Voyager yet? Isn't it a fantastic ship? I took a look at their mess hall earlier. They've got three replicators in there, alone! And they have one in every cabin! I suggested to B'Elanna that we should bring some of them down here. Wouldn't it be great if we could all have one in our quarters, and maybe one in here as well. Transporter room shifts are awfully dull. I could really do with a snack just about now..."

"The captain's ready room. Deck 1. Thanks, Chell."

Seska interrupted his endless ramblings.

Dumb Bolians! Being polite just did not get you anywhere with them, unless you had a few years to spare.

"Oh, alright..." Chell responded a little hurt.

When Seska materialized in the ready room, her attention was immediately drawn to the captain's personal computer console on the desk. As opposed to Chakotay, she had a real knack with passwords and encryption codes. Moments later the screen flashed to life. The Obsidian Order trained their agents well. A few more minutes down the line, and she had managed to access the crew manifest. The first name she noticed was that of Thomas Eugene Paris, who had apparently been taken aboard as an observer only -- no rank. She was going to enjoy dealing with him, once her superiors in the Obsidian Order had arrested him. It occurred to her that, strangely, no medical staff had been assigned to Voyager. Of course this mission had not been supposed to last very long, but there had to be someone who could administer medical aid in an emergency. It was Starfleet protocol to have a doctor accompany every mission. She made a mental note of it and decided to research this matter further at a later stage. Finally she found the captain's file. Captain Kathryn Janeway. A picture showed a woman of roughly Chakotay's age. Her hair was done up in a strict bun which made her look rather stern. She had well defined features -- high cheekbones and a prominent jaw line. By Earth standards, she supposed that this Kathryn Janeway could be called beautiful. I'll soon change that!, she thought with a vicious grin on her lips.

Janeway's personnel file was impressive. She had finished command school at the Academy with distinction, after changing her career from science to command on the recommendation of none other than the famous Admiral Owen Paris. It was obvious that she was one of Starfleet's best -- the crème de la crème of the Federation.

There seemed to be an encrypted file attached to the profile. It required a high security clearance code... Something Starfleet did not want everyone to know about? Seska tried a couple of combinations and quickly succeeded in accessing the hidden file... Starfleet's codes were so predictable!

The file went back thirteen years. This was interesting... Apparently Janeway and her mentor, Admiral Owen Paris, had once been captured by the Obsidian Order. Camet's name was mentioned as well. He had been the one to interrogate them. So that was why he was so interested in the captain. Quickly she downloaded all the information on the captain onto a padd and made her exit, before anyone could suspect that she was doing a little more than retrieving something Chakotay had left on the ship. Back in her quarters Seska locked the door, so that no one could enter unexpectedly. In the Maquis this could happen from time to time. The boundaries between people were low and not defined by protocol, which was very helpful when trying to gather intelligence -- less so, when trying to transmit a secret message to the enemy. In any case, infiltrating the Maquis was considerably easier than passing undetected through the ranks of Starfleet or the Federation Council. But it was also more dangerous. The Maquis would no doubt kill her if they ever found out that she was actually a Cardassian spy -- Starfleet and the Federation would simply send her to a pleasant little penal colony on some quaint terran continent. She retrieved the long-range transmitter and tapped in the encryption code as before.

This time she did not have to announce her call to Camet. He responded before she was able to get a word out.

"Did you get the information I requested?"

Never before had she seen him so impatient. Seska sneered,

"Have I ever let you down, Gul?"

"Don't make me answer that! Did you get it?"

Oh, she knew he wanted the information badly, and she was going to enjoy teasing the hell out of him.

"Remind me again, Camet, what did you want to know?"

He had just about had enough of her games. His eyes narrowed dangerously,

"Don't play with me, Seska! I'm not some gutless Maquis captain you can wind around your little finger. Tell me what you know, or I'll have you join Chakotay!"

Seska sobered.

"I'm transmitting her personnel file now. Have you got news for me about Tain's plans?"

"Yes, we are going to attack the base at 0400 hours. That will give you exactly six hours to prepare for our arrival. You will power down their defense systems -- phasers, torpedoes and that forcefield around the base. See that it's done by the time we arrive!"

Camet glanced at the information that Seska had just downloaded to his computer terminal. His breath caught. There she was -- a little older, but she had not changed much. Finally! He had tracked her down and she was trapped -- a hostage of the Maquis -- easy prey. A malicious grin distorted his features, and his eyes sparkled dangerously as he returned his attention to Seska.

"Make sure Kathryn Janeway is waiting for me when I get there. Under no circumstances do I want her to escape or get harmed. Is that understood?"

Seska stared at him in disbelief. What obsession had gotten into him? And she had so looked forward to her first encounter with the Starfleet captain. The things she would have done to her... She had planned to beat that pretty face into a pulp, or even better, cut it into so many pieces that even her closest family members would not recognize her again. Then she would have tortured her until she would have begged Seska to let her die.

But now it did not look as if she was going to get the chance to do any of it, unless she was happy to have Camet do the same -- or maybe worse things -- to herself when he got there. As much as she wanted gratification for what Janeway -- well, actually Chakotay -- had done to her, she was not willing to die for it, and certainly not by the hands of the ever-dreaded Gul Camet. She had heard the stories about how he drove his victims insane with pain before he finally killed them, and he had a reputation for being especially good with women. Maybe delivering Janeway to him in one piece was not such a bad thing after all.

"Consider her yours, Camet!" she said with a seductive grin.

"Good! I'll see you in six hours. Camet out!" He cut the transmission and looked again at the picture of the woman on his computer screen. She had not changed much. If anything her beauty had ripened and grown. Oh, what pleasure this long desired reunion would be!

"I've got you trapped, my dear!" he said softly to the image of the woman, caressing it with his long reptilian fingers, his eyes glazed over with the veil of mania as he leered at it.

Having prepared the couch for the night, Kathryn opened the case with her things in it and began to search for a suitable nightgown. She had to keep up appearances. Much to her dismay she only found two. The first one was a rather short nightshirt -- it stopped at the small of her back -- which she kept for extremely hot summer nights or a breakdown of the environmental controls. She hated sleeping in the nude onboard starships. You never knew when an emergency would force you to leave your quarters unexpectedly, without a chance to get dressed properly. This way she would only have to put on some trousers. The other nightgown in the case was a very low-cut peach satin negligee. The latter Mark had given to her on their fifth anniversary... Stop thinking about him, she thought and banished the memories that the negligee had conjured up from her mind.

At least the negligee would cover most of her, she thought as she strained her ears to listen to the muffled sounds emanating from the bedroom. He was talking to someone over the comm-line. If she were quick enough she would be able to get changed and tugged under the blankets before Chakotay finished his conversation.

As fast as she could she unfastened the zip at the back of her dress and slipped out of it. Immediately she pulled the negligee over her head and rushed under the covers on the couch. It was too small for her to stretch out completely, so she curled up into a fetal position. At least the blankets were warm and the pillows and plush upholstery made a soft and comfortable bed. Just as she had ordered the computer to switch of the lights in the lounge room, she heard Chakotay end his conversation. Seconds later the Maquis captain emerged from the bedroom, wrapped into a navy blue rope and probably not wearing much else under it.

Noticing that the light in the lounge room had already been turned off, he quietly entered, finding his way to the couch in the dark, aided only by the few rays of light that shown in from his bedroom. In front of the couch he halted to look at his hostage. Her long hair cascaded freely over the pillow. She had covered herself up to her neck with the blankets Lojal had delivered. She had thrown her dress over the back of the couch. Chakotay found himself wondering which of the nightgowns she had chosen to wear. Maybe he should have brought her one of the Starfleet issue pyjamas after all. But he did not want another reminder of the powerful institution he himself had belonged to not so long ago, an institution that was now bend on hunting him and his down, to the death if necessary.

He remembered having packed two of her nightgowns and they had both been rather revealing. He hoped to God that she was not going to parade around in his quarters in one of them. If she did, he would not be held responsible for his actions... Kathryn listened to his footsteps on the thick carpet as he approached her. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he could hear it. Nevertheless she continued pretending to be asleep. She had pulled the blankets tightly around her. Good God, what was he doing now? She felt his hand approach her face -- the warmth of his skin enveloping her cheek and lips. However much she concentrated, she could not stop her breathing from becoming shallow and rushed. She tried to hold her breath, but that only made matters worse. Her lungs were screaming for air. Kathryn hoped that her eyelids did not flutter with the agitation she was feeling. It would undoubtedly give her away.

With unimaginable will power she forced herself to remain absolutely motionless, determined not to jump at his touch as his hand gently brushed her cheek to remove a strand of hair from her face. Kathryn suppressed a shudder. She wanted to push his hand away and scream at him not to touch her, but she did not want him to know that she was awake. She just wanted him to leave her -- she needed to be alone. He stood there for what seemed an eternity, and just as she was beginning to think that he was going to stand there all night, he went back to his bedroom, leaving the doors wide open. Kathryn quietly took a deep breath and exhaled with relief. She just hoped he was not going to come back. When she finally heard him crawl into bed she relaxed. Now it was time to think about how to get out of here. She was not going to use the night for sleeping; that much was clear.

She would listen to the sounds from the bedroom until she could be sure that he was asleep. Then she would try to get out of this place and find her crew. There should not be too many guards around the place since they thought that all their prisoners were locked away safely. It should not be too difficult to walk about undetected, but there was one problem -- she was only wearing that rather revealing negligee...

She would rather die than have her crew or any of the Maquis see her like this. Her Starfleet uniform had disappeared into a recycler, but the dress she had worn tonight still hung over the back of the couch. She would take it with her and get changed once she found a quiet, secluded place somewhere in the base. Getting dressed in Chakotay's quarters would be risking waking him up with the rustle of the fabric. She could not afford to take that risk. She listened to the soft sound of his breathing for what seemed like hours. Chakotay obviously had trouble sleeping tonight. He was tossing and turning a lot. Finally his breathing became deeper and more regular. As there was no chronometer for her to check the passing of time, she recited the entire Constitution of the United Federation of Planets in her mind -- all nine hundred and fifty-two paragraphs of it, well, at least most of what she could remember.

"We the intelligent life-forms of the United Federation of Planets determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of intra-galactic war which has brought untold horror and suffering to our planetary social systems, and to reaffirm faith in the fundamental intelligent life-form rights, in the dignity and worth of the intelligent life-form person, to the equal rights of male and female and of planetary social systems large and small, and to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom, to practice benevolent tolerance and live together in peace with one another as good neighbors, and to unite our strength to maintain intra-galactic peace and security, and to ensure by the acceptance of principles and the institution of methods that armed force shall not be used except in common defense, and to employ intra-galactic machinery for the promotion of the economic and social advancement of al intelligent life-forms, have resolved to combine our efforts to accomplish these aims. Accordingly, the respective social systems, through representatives assembled on the planet Bable, who have exhibited..."

At the end of that she knew that about an hour and a half had passed. Chakotay's breath was still coming in deep regular intervals. Now's as good a time as any, she thought, as she slipped from the sofa and tiptoed into the dining room. She stopped on the threshold between the dining room and his bedroom.

She could not see his face, since his back was turned toward her, but he was not moving. Satisfied that he was asleep, she made her way back to the lounge. Kathryn took the dress that still hung over the back of one of the armchairs and approached the door that led out of Chakotay's quarters into whatever lay behind it -- she still did not know where exactly she was, only that she had been taken to a Maquis base on a planet in the Moriya system. His quarters did not have any windows, so she presumed that the base was probably subterranean. The furnishings in Chakotay's rooms exuded luxury, so this base had obviously belonged to someone else at some time. It certainly was not decorated Maquis style. They would never have been able to afford such treasures.

The door required a security code to open it. For once she was grateful for having been forced to take the Survival Training Course at the Academy. It had almost killed her, but it surely had taught her a lot about how to get out of seemingly hopeless situations. A large part of the course had been spent on physical endurance exercises and field training, but there had also been quite a few lectures and practical lessons on how to break into computer systems, decode encryptions and break door locks of all kinds.

_If only I had a tricorder...,_ she mused. Chakotay had to have one somewhere. She tiptoed her way to the part of his quarters that served as his office. It was pitch black and she could not turn on the lights. She fumbled her way around the room, trying to locate the desk she remembered catching a brief glimpse of before she had gone to bed.

After a frustrating period of blind searching she was rewarded with the feel of solid wood under her hands. His desk! Now she carefully fingered every item that lay on it -- a padd, another padd, an old fashioned book of some kind, a computer console, a cup, another padd... What was this? Oh, a chronometer.

She pulled back in shock as her fingers made contact with something furry... WHAT was that? She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and continued to finger the desk, however she found nothing but a few more padds. The man definitely had too many padds! Frustrated with her lack of progress, she sank into his chair and tried the drawers.

The first one was locked, the second one also, but the third gave way when she pulled at the antique metallic handle. Blindly she slid her hand into the drawer -- a few pieces of paper, two more padds... She lifted the paper with one hand to feel underneath it with the other. There! Bull's eye! A tricorder! Quickly she pulled it out, tiptoed out of the office leaving the drawer open, and stole back to the door. After a few minutes of soundlessly removing the cover from the control panel to the left of the door, which was not an easy task in the dark, she interfaced the tricorder. She had set the instrument to crack the door code, and waited for it to do the work. A short time later, although it seemed to her as if hours had passed, she was rewarded with a small hydraulic hiss as the door slid open. Quickly she grabbed the tricorder and her dress and slipped out into a cold, damp and dim tunnel. The door immediately slid shut behind her.

Where the hell did they take us? As the cold from the ground crept into her feet she realized that she had forgotten to take her shoes. The uneven rocky ground was already cutting painfully into her soles, but she could not risk going back for them -- it meant opening the door again, which would no doubt rouse Chakotay from his slumber. Carefully she made her way over the rocky, cold, damp ground. She opened the tricorder to search for her crew. The tricorder registered Voyagers combadge signatures all over the place, even in Chakotay's quarters. That could not be right... The Maquis had apparently taken Voyager's combadges and used them for their own purposes. This way the tricorder would be virtually useless to her. She closed it.

After a few minutes she realized that she must be traveling through a main tunnel. Several smaller ones branched off to either side. The eerie green shine of ancient torches, that were lit by a to her unfamiliar fuel, illuminated her way.

Janeway stayed on the main path, gathering that it had to eventually lead her somewhere. The place reminded her of a dilithium mining colony she had once visited as a teenager, when her father had taken her with him on a business trip to the planet Coridan, before it had been admitted into the Federation... only this seemed much older. And the green light of the torches discomfortingly reminded her of Cardassian prisons.

The tunnel went on endlessly. Then, in the distance, she heard voices. By the sounds of it a small group was approaching her position -- no more than five people. She used opened the tricorder. It read five combadge signals. Hurriedly she took cover in the shadows of one of the barely lit side tunnels.

They were coming closer, but she was out of sight and had no fear of being discovered, unless they were going to take exactly this tunnel. Even then she would probably be able to hide in the shadows if she pressed herself right up against the wall. They were right there now... and walking past in the direction she had just come from. Relieved she exhaled the breath she had been unaware of holding.

She donned the dress she had brought with her -- at least if people ran into her this way, she would not look as suspect as she had before, running about in her negligee. Maybe they would even mistake her for one of them...

Wishful thinking, Kathryn!, she chided herself. Of course they would not be that stupid. From what she had heard Maquis cells were like families -- everyone knew each other, no matter how large their number. She had barely finished dressing and was peeking her head around the corner to see if the main passageway was clear, when the loud whine of an alarm blurred through the entire place, echoing against the walls of so many different tunnels that it was difficult to distinguish the original alert claxons. The noise was deafening and she sheltered her ears with her hands until they had adapted to the sudden assault. Then Chakotay's voice came over the comm-system.

"Intruder Alert! The Starfleet captain has escaped. She must still be in the tunnels. All hands to the search! She's not armed, so there's no reason to harm her. If anyone does, they will have to answer to me! I repeat, do NOT harm her! We need her in one piece!"

Chakotay was furious... more with himself for putting too much trust in her than with Kathryn for attempting to escape. But he had been so accommodating! Of course, he should have expected something like this.

"Idiot!" he chastised himself.

He just hoped that his people were not going to hurt her when they found her. Scenarios of what might happen if Seska found her kept going through his mind. At least he had no doubt that she would be tracked down in no time. There was simply nowhere to hide, especially for someone who did not know their way around the place. Chakotay had awoken only minutes ago to get himself a glass of water from the replicator. When he had gone to the lounge room in order to check on her she had not been there. After ordering the computer to fully illuminate his quarters, and a glance at the door panel, which lay on the ground next to the entrance to his quarters, he had switched on the alarm claxons and called for intruder alert. Now he was hurriedly getting dressed to join the search. So much for a good night's sleep before the interrogations started! It was only 0330 hours and he had not been planning to get up for another three to four hours. Still doing up his shirt buttons, he sprinted out of his quarters.


	10. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Everyone in the brig was suddenly wide-awake. Forgotten were the cold, the various aches and discomforts. The captain was somewhere in the base, probably trying to find them.   Everyone had been immensely relieved to hear that she was alive and well. Despite Tuvok's logical conclusions and reassurances they had feared the worst.  

"Thank god, she's alive!"

Stadi was close to tears with relief from the knowledge that her captain was well.  

"It would seem that my earlier conclusions were correct. They do not wish to kill her." Tuvok stated.  

"They don't even want to harm her, according to that announcement. It doesn't sound like they're going to use torture."

Carey added hopefully. If they were not going to harm the captain, than it was likely that no one else would get hurt either. Maybe their situation here was not quite as bleak as it had seemed.  

"Sounds to me like Janeway has been able to charm the bastard! They've probably had a pleasant evening in front of the fire with champagne and chocolates." Cavit added sarcastically.

He was both furious and relieved that the captain had not been harmed. He wanted her to suffer because he was suffering -- he was cold, uncertain of his future and utterly miserable -- but he was relieved now that he would probably not be killed either. These Maquis did not seem quite so bad.  

"What do you think Captain Janeway is going to do now? Do you think she'll come here and try to get us out of here?"

Kim threw a hopeful glance at Cavit.  

"I haven't got a clue, Ensign! I'm the last person who can figure her out!" the first officer answered resentfully.

Kim blushed at the verbal assault from his commanding officer.   Tuvok seemed to have a little more insight.  

"I have know Captain Janeway for many years, and I believe that right now her priority is to remain undiscovered. It would be illogical for her to come here to attempt a rescue. Her presence here would be detected in no time. I believe she will hide somewhere until the situation has calmed down. Then she will either attempt to free us, or she will endeavor to alert Starfleet to our predicament. As before, all we can do now is wait and observe."

_0345 hours_

Seska left her quarters and made her way down one of the smaller tunnels that would lead her to the main power generator. All she had to do was cut a few wires, and even B'Elanna would take hours to fix the problem. She just had to make sure that the environmental controls would remain online. Emergency power would be sufficient to control the atmosphere within the base, but that would be all. There was no way that small emergency generator could reestablish the shields.

Ideally she would just have to cut through the cable that connected the generator to the shields, phaser banks and torpedo launchers. It was just as well that the lights in the base consisted of old Cardassian fuel torches, which were not connected to the generator... This way no one would notice the problem until it was too late...

"Hello Seska! Trying to find the captain? Don't you think this is a little out of the way? I don't think she could have made it this far already!"

Seska stopped dead in her tracks. She had almost collided with Bendera. She would have to be more careful if she was going to succeed...

"Hi, Kurt! I just thought that everyone else is already searching in the obvious places, so I might as well look here. You never know, she might have gotten lost here..."

Okay, she had saved that one. Now she just had to get rid of Bendera, so she would have time to disable the forcefield before Camet and his troops arrived. There was not much time left.

"Want me to come with you? You never know! Those Starfleet captains are pretty well versed in combat!"

"Don't you worry about me! I've dealt with a lot worse than that.", she reassured Bendera, giving him a friendly smile.

"Okay, I was trying to find Chakotay anyway. But look out, alright?"

"Right. I'll see you later!"  She waited until Bendera had disappeared into another tunnel, before continuing her way to the main power generator.

0355 hours, and the bloody door was locked. Damn Chakotay and his efficiency! She had to get in there now! Otherwise Camet would have her hide.

There! She had cracked the door lock. Seska removed the control panel from the generator, exposing a myriad of cables. Which ones should she cut? There was no time left.

Seska drew a small Cardassian combat knife out of her boot and cut through as many cables as she could manage.   Three minutes left to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.

_DON'T PANIC!,_ she repeated over and over again in her mind until it had become a mantra. She needed to think clearly if she wanted to get out of this mess in one piece. Where to go? She consulted the tricorder. There were countless tunnels to choose from, and she had no idea where either of them would take her. The tricorder did not help her much, either. She had found Voyager, but the vessel was too far away for her to reach it, and combadge signals were closing in on her from all sides... Exasperatedly she sighed and put the instrument into her pocket. She would not be able to use it for a while, since the beeps that were emanating from it, and the flashing lights of its control panel would surely lead the Maquis to her in no time.

The base was now buzzing with life. She could hear running footsteps and shouting voices everywhere. How long could she possibly hope to last like this?

Whether she got caught or not, it was clear that her mission had failed. It would be impossible to locate her crew now. Even if she were to stumble over them accidentally, she would immediately be captured -- surely the brig was well guarded now. Chakotay had probably ordered reinforcement guards to the brig as soon as he had discovered that she was missing. She had had no idea that this Maquis cell had so many members -- there must be at least a hundred!   They were everywhere now, like drones in a disturbed hive. Taking a deep calming breath she stole along the walls of the tunnel in which she had changed into her dress only minutes ago. It had been so quiet and secluded then. She came to a point were two more tunnels branched off to either side. Which way now? She could hear voices in the tunnel straight ahead and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from the left. Maybe she should risk consulting her tricorder again...

She had just taken it into her hand when she was discovered.

All she heard was a voice shouting from somewhere behind her,

"There she is! I've got her! Come on, everyone!"

All hell broke loose as the thunder of multiple footsteps approached from behind, ahead and to the left of her. Kathryn dropped her tricorder. There was only one way to go. She broke into a frenzied run, taking the pitch-black tunnel to the right.   Unlike most of the tunnels, this one did not have any torches at all, which slowed her down considerably. She could not hope to hide in the darkness either, because the Maquis were carrying wrist beacons, giving them a distinct advantage.

Kathryn ran blindly, several times bumping painfully into the hard, rocky walls. Her feet were on fire as the flinty ground cut into her soles, but she was beyond caring. She had to get out of here. She cried out as she yet again ran into something solid. But this time it was not a wall.

A split-second later she found herself crushed against the rock face of the tunnel by strong arms, and groaned as her back roughly made contact with the unyielding stone. Her heart was beating wildly, due to the wild chase and the panic, which had overtaken her.

Horrified Kathryn felt someone's ragged breath against her neck and face. She was shaking, and her legs were threatening to give in, but the powerful arms kept her none to gently upright.

She barely noticed the sounds of the fast approaching search party, when the man holding her shouted in their direction,   "It's alright! I've got her. Thank you for your help. I can handle it from here. You can go back to whatever you were doing before!"   Chakotay! It was his voice! He was the one pinning her against the wall. What was he going to do now? Take her to the brig? Or straight to an interrogation chamber? She could tell, by the way he was holding her, that he was furious. One hand was painfully squeezing her right arm and the other was holding on to her waist, almost crushing her rips with his strength. It was becoming difficult to breathe. He had not said a word to her yet.  When rage made him tighten his hold on her even further, she gasped as he crushed her almost impossibly further into the hard rock.   It had not gone unnoticed. Chakotay loosened his grip on her slightly.

"That wasn't very wise, Captain! Where did you think you were going? There's no way out of here!"  

She stared at him -- at least she thought she did, but since it was pitch-black she had no way of telling -- attempting to comprehend what he was saying. What did he mean? There was no way out?

Suddenly she felt too drained to stand up any longer, now that her plan had failed, and leaned against the wall for support. But since she did not have Chakotay's arms to steady her any longer, she found herself sagging to the ground like a puppet without strings, as her limbs finally succumbed to physical and mental exhaustion. He crouched down in front of her and spoke softly,  

"Kathryn, you're completely exhausted. You haven't even entirely recovered from the side effects of the neural toxin. You need to rest. We should get you back to bed."  

She could not believe what she was hearing. Was he not going to punish her for what she had done? Why did he have to be so damn kind to her, on top of the fact that he was one of the most handsome men she had ever met? She needed to hate him, but it was becoming damn hard to do so. If he were only to yell at her, hit her, torture her... She had to hate him. He was the enemy!

Aside from that she had no intention to go back to his quarters, now that she had made it this far. She had to find a way to get away from him. What she needed was a distraction.  

Chakotay was in the process of sweeping her up into his arms, when the floor unexpectedly shook violently, accompanied by the deafening sounds of explosions -- chunks of rock falling from the unsupported ceiling of the tunnel, threatening to entomb them.   Instinctively he threw himself on top of her, sheltering her body with his. Then it stopped and everything was quiet again, except for the sound of occasionally dropping debris.  

"What the hell...?"

He was interrupted as Seska's voice emanating from his combadge,  

"Seska to Chakotay, please respond!"  

"I'm here, Seska! What the hell's going on?"  

"Oh, it's terrible, Chakotay! We are under attack by three Cardassian warships. All our defense systems are down, including the shields! They are coming in, Chakotay! What do you want us to do?"  

It was the Maquis leader's turn to feel his knees buckle.  

"How the hell did they find us?" he yelled incredulously at no one in particular.  

Kathryn Janeway recognized an opportunity when there was one, and this was perfect. Her aches, pains and fatigue forgotten, she rose to stand. There was nothing but a little adrenaline to reenergize one's systems. 

"Kathryn, what do you think you're doing?" Chakotay shouted at her as he bolted upright.

"It's over, Chakotay. The Cardassians have come to rescue us. I suggest you surrender!"  

"Kathryn, you can't be serious! Don't go to them! They're going to kill you! Don't think they care whether you're Starfleet or Maquis! They don't give a damn!" he shouted. 

"I seem to recall a certain treaty that makes myself and them allies!" she countered equally hot-tempered.  

"Kathryn, please don't give yourself to them! I've seen what they do to our women! Please come with me! I'll find us a way out of here!" he pleaded.   Kathryn humphed.

"You must be joking, Chakotay! If you had the choice between an ally and a terrorist who's keeping you hostage, what would you do? I'm going! Are you giving yourself up, or are you going to get yourself killed?"  

"Kathryn, please listen to me! The Cardassians don't have allies! I won't let you go!"  

His distress struck her deeply, and for the briefest of moments she questioned the wisdom of her decision. But then she tore herself loose.  

"Fine, I'll go alone. Good luck, Chakotay!"  

He was not going to let her go. Chakotay charged towards her. But just before he could grab hold of her the ground shook again, causing another rain of rocks and dust. When it was over Kathryn was nowhere to be seen...


	11. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Chakotay, we are being hailed by the lead ship!" Seska announced over the comm-link.  

He shook his head to clear the fog that the last explosion had cause there.

"Can you put it through to my combadge?"  

"Yes, I think so. Wait a second...."  

He heard a brief crackle of static, then a man's voice rasped,  

"I am Gul Camet of the Tokar Zebok! We have surrounded you. Your defense systems are down. Surrender now or prepare to die!"  

"I'd rather die than hand my people over to you, Camet! Your reputation precedes you! Camet the Butcher! No thank you. You're going to have to do this the hard way. Seska, cut the link!"  

He tapped his badge again.

"This is Chakotay to all hands! We're under attack by Cardassian warships. Help the Starfleet crew out of the brig, and make your way to the docking stations. Try to get out of here somehow, and assist the Starfleet people! Do not surrender under any circumstances! Camet is leading them! I repeat! Get out of here and help the Starfleet crew! Camet has come to take over the base! Do not surrender! Chakotay out."   He was already running in the direction of the unfortunately distant docking bay that contained Voyager, before he cut the comm-link. If they could get the Starfleet vessel to work, they might just have a chance.

Kathryn Janeway was lying flat on the ground, her arms and hands clasped over her head in an attempt to protect it from another shower of rock and debris. Already her knees and arms had numerous cuts and bruises from the repeated attacks, and the air was now so thick with dust that she could barely see or breathe. Then all was quiet again, and she wearily got to her feet, coughing violently as the all-surrounding dust invaded her lungs.   For the past fifteen minutes or so she had been trying to find her way back to the main tunnel, ducking repeatedly to avoid the bombardment of rocks that assailed upon her with every explosion.

Now she could clearly make out brighter lights about thirty feet ahead of her. She desperately wanted to run, but it was impossible with all the debris on the ground. An earlier attempt to do so had only ended with her hitting the ground hard, as she stumbled over a boulder twice the size of her own head. Her knees were still bleeding badly from the fall, but she did not have the time to attend to her wounds. She had to find the Cardassians and her crew. They needed to get the hell out of here, before they all got buried alive.   Kathryn stopped dead as she heard phaser fire from the tunnel she was approaching. Several Cardassian soldiers sped past the opening of the tunnel. She continued to make her way to the main tunnel, when she heard a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. Now what? Was she going to have a déjà-vu?

The stress is getting to you, Captain!, she chided herself mentally, but she could not help hearing what the voice was saying.  

"I want Janeway! Make sure you get her! I don't care about the damn Maquis! Just bring me the woman! And make sure she's alive! I've waited a long time for this moment!"  

Kathryn found herself immobilized with panic. This was no déjà-vu, this was real! She would have recognized that voice anywhere. It had followed her in her dreams over the past thirteen years. As much as she had tried, she could not get it out of her mind. All the counseling Starfleet could offer had not been able to erase it from her memory. She had even asked Tuvok to teach her some Vulcan meditation techniques, to help her get over the apprehension of going to sleep. For almost seven years after the incident she had heard his rasping voice, smelled his foul breath, whenever she closed her eyes.

Then she had found Mark, and the voice had fainted, until one day, it had vanished entirely. The odor of Camet's squalid breath, though, had stayed with her to this day.   And now the voice was back, too, but not as some phantom in a dream -- this was reality. Gul Camet in flesh and blood!

Thirteen years ago she had been certain that she was not going to make it out of that Cardassian prison alive. He had made his intentions very clear to her. She would never forget his words, when he had explained the true purpose of their Cardassian torture techniques...  

"Power. Control. The satisfaction of completely breaking another being."  

She felt the icy chill those words had caused her engulf her once again, as if it had happened yesterday. Thirteen long years of coming to terms with what had happened back there, of fighting the terrible fears that he might still come after her.   Almost as tormenting as the memory of his voice, the screams of her mentor, Admiral Paris, had haunted her for years. Camet had forced her to listen to his screams of agony and despair, as they slowly tortured him to death. Oh, she wished Owen Paris were here now, so she would not have to face those memories alone. She knew it was a selfish wish. Owen had never been the same after the incident...   To tell the truth, at the time she had not even come close to imagining the full extent of the horror Camet could inflict on her. That had come much later. Roughly five years after the Rangers had broken her out of the Cardassian prison, she had stumbled across Camet's name again. This time it had been in the comfort of her office at Starfleet Headquarters. The news had reached her in the shape of the monthly report of an undercover agent who was supplying Starfleet with crucial information about the strategical plans of the Cardassian Empire.

Among other things, he had mentioned that a certain Gul Camet had been awarded the Proficient Service Medallion of the Cardassian Empire. Apparently his superiors had recommended him for the award, due to his ruthless treatment of prisoners. He had no scruples, when it came to torturing and killing people. Camet had been responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Bajorans, in his capacity as commanding officer of a Cardassian labor camp on Bajor during the occupation. He had literally slaughtered people. His ruthless command of the camp had earned him a name -- Camet, the Butcher. And the worst thing was that he took special pleasure in torturing and tormenting women.

He had slowly killed men in front of their wifes, slayed children before the eyes of their mothers... He had continued even after they had given them the information he wanted. Once he had started there was no stopping him. No pleas could make him end his butchering. When a woman finally had had no husband or children left, he had turned to raping her repeatedly before slitting her throat.

She would never be able to forget that report. She had never gotten another one after that. All contact with the agent had been lost. She could only guess at the terrible end he had taken...

Kathryn shuddered and fought the bile that was threatening to force its way out of her system. Could this day possibly have any more horrors in stock for her? Paralyzed with fear she sank to her bloodstained knees, not registering the pain anymore and unable to form a coherent thought.   She just wanted this day to end.

Chakotay was making his way to the main tunnel. During the last explosion he had almost been knocked out by a huge rock that had fallen from the ceiling. It had barely missed his head, thanks to his quick maneuvering. There it was! The opening to the main tunnel shown brightly ahead of him.   Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. In between himself and the opening to the main tunnel a figure was hunched on the ground, gently swaying back and forth. The eerie emerald light from the main passageway softly reflected off long auburn hair... Kathryn!  

"Kathryn?"  

There was no answer. She did not even acknowledge him with as much as a glance. Her body was still rocking back and forth. He came closer to put his hand onto her shoulder -- still no reaction. He moved around to face her and saw a flood of tears silently streaming down her cheeks, a hollow expression in her eyes. She looked haunted.  

"Kathryn? What happened?"  

No answer.  

"Kathryn, talk to me! Look at me, Kathryn!"   

He put a hand under her chin and bend her head up, so she would have to look at him. With a jump she got up and jerked several meters away from him, eyes wide.  Involuntarily a long sob escaped her, almost as if she had not exhaled for several minutes.

What the hell had happened here? What terror could transform this courageous and commanding -- not to mention stubborn -- woman into a trembling wreck?

She was angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks with trembling hands. When she had composed herself a little, he asked softly,  

"Kathryn, what's wrong? What happened?"  

When she looked at him this time, her eyes were no longer hollow but expressed the full extent of the terror and the desperation that she felt.

Was there still a chance for her to get out of this? Could she trust Chakotay? Should she swallow her pride and ask him for help? She measured him carefully. He seemed sincere enough... or was he just a good actor?

Her head spun and she desperately tried to concentrate. She could try to make it through the tunnels, take her chances by herself and try to reach Voyager or at least a shuttle craft... anything to get out of here.

But it had taken her forever just to find her way back to the main passageway. She had lost her tricorder. How many tunnels were there? And how was she going to avoid the Cardassians, not to mention their sensors? She really did not have much of a choice...

Kathryn Janeway took a deep shuddering breath. She did not want to do this...  

"Will you still help me to get out of here?"

Her voice broke towards the end of the sentence -- fighting the tears that were welling up, her voice low and husky.

Was she expecting him to leave her here? What kind of a monster did she think he was?  

"Kathryn, of course I'm going to help you -- if you let me. But first of all I need to know what happened here."  

Embarrassed about her loss of control, she rubbed the remaining wetness form her cheeks with the palms of her hands. Taking a deep breath she answered wryly,  

"Gul Camet and I are... 'old friends'. The last time we met we were officially enemies."

She stopped as a shudder gained hold of her.  

"Are you talking about the time you mentioned to me over dinner? When you were a prisoner of the Obsidian Order?" he probed. 

"Yes... Admiral Paris and I had been taken captive during an undercover mission to collect intelligence from an array on a moon orbiting Urtea II. It was my first deep space mission -- I was still an ensign. When they realized that Owen was not going to tell them what they wanted to know, they tried their luck with me. But I was just as stubborn as the Admiral. Camet was in charge of the interrogation, and when I would not talk either he taught me a little about the Cardassian frame of mind. They don't use torture to get information -- they use it because they get a kick out of it..."  

She fought back another shudder, then continued.  

"They made me listen to his screams... as they tortured him.... Camet was going to kill Owen right before my eyes and then... well, you said you knew what they do to women... -- he would have if it hadn't been for the Rangers."  

At this point the shudder she had vehemently tried to suppress for the past few minutes won the battle, and she had to pause briefly while it took its course.   Chakotay approached her, trying to wrap his arms around her in an attempt to give comfort. He ignored the fact that she instantly tensed. She pushed him away and continued,  

"I saw him earlier. He was talking to his men. He's ordered them to find me. I don't know how he could possibly know that I'm here... He's come to finish what he started thirteen years ago..."  

She was shaking uncontrollably again, and he tried once more to wrap his arms around her. Still she did not allow it, so he settled for taking her hands into his.  

"I promise you, I won't let him do those things to you. I know this place better than anyone. I'll get us out of here. But you're going to have to trust me, alright?"

He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.  A sarcastic laugh emanated from her.

"How can I possibly trust you, Chakotay? You took over my ship, took me and my crew hostage and refused to tell me what you're intending to do with us. For all I know you were going to kill us all anyway. I might as well trust the Butcher!"  

"You said, you wanted my help!"  

"I was wrong. I've changed my mind."  

"I think you're forgetting something here, Kathryn! You're still my hostage, and I'm still the one in control!"  

She glared at him.  

"Then what do you think would happen if I gave our Cardassian friends a shout to let them know that you're here? They've been after you for months, Chakotay! How much control do you think you have if they get their hands on you? What do you think they'd do?"  

He regarded her coldly.  

"They'd kill me, and then they'd deliver you into the hands of your old friend, who's been after you for over a decade. If that's what you want, Kathryn, go right ahead. But if you want me to get you out of here, then I'll be the one in charge!"  

He was right. The situation was absolutely out of her hands. But that did not change the fact that she did not trust Chakotay. What if he were to deliver her into Camet's hands in exchange for his own and his people's safety? Sacrificing the one for the many was a thing done commonly enough, and not just among Starfleet officers.

It made sense, especially when the one to be sacrificed was also his enemy. She had to find a way to go on alone. Maybe a bluff would shake him off. It was worth a try.  

"You've got one minute, then I'll let my allies know where you are. I suggest you run!"  

Chakotay had heard enough. They could not go on like this. They would never make it out of here. It was time to teach her some respect.

Chakotay rarely lost his temper, but the pressure of the situation was getting to him, and Kathryn Janeway was not helping matters. 

"Try it!" he sneered at her, and then everything happened too fast. He grabbed hold of her and crushed her against the rock face. Kathryn let out a surprised groan. Then he lowered his head to her face and rasped,

"Scream, Kathryn! It's your last chance!"

Kathryn's eyes went wide with panic. He looked furious enough to kill her. Her mouth opened but no sound would come out of it. His hands were at either side of her head now, holding it roughly as if intending to crush it, while his body continued to roughly pressed her into the wall.

A sorry little sound made it past her lips. She had to do something!

Suddenly his mouth descended on hers in an angry and bruising kiss. Kathryn tried to push him off her with all the remaining strength her body could summon, but he was too big and much stronger. She continued to beat her fists into him until her arms grew too weak to continue. Her hard was beating so fast that she thought she was going to die, and her lungs were refusing to work for her.

_Insolent bastard! How dare you?,_ she thought furiously.

Kathryn felt the power to fight him slip from her, and her struggle slowly subsided as her knees buckled. Believing her to begin to surrender to him, his kiss became more gentle, as did his hands.

Good god, what was he doing? She would not be able to take much more of this. She had to do something before all will to fight him left her. The man was intolerable. _He's no better than Camet!,_ she tried to convince herself.

She began a renewed struggle, although it was so feeble an attempt to fight him that she was not sure he would even notice.

As much as he wanted to continue, this was neither the time, nor the place. They had to get out of here. The base was becoming far too dangerous. There would be time for this later -- he would make sure of that.

Chakotay reluctantly released her mouth and heard her gasp. He thought he had caught a brief glimpse of passion in her large blue eyes, but it was instantly replaced with outrage. She was positively fuming. Could he have been so mistaken?

He felt the urge to apologize to her, but refrained from doing so. He had to make his point, so he said,

"I hope you know who's in charge now. I'm going to get us out of here. If you as much as whisper to the Cardassians, I'll teach you another lesson, and this time I won't be so nice!"  

Chakotay roughly took her arm and dragged her along with him.   Kathryn's head spun. Had she actually begun to enjoy the kiss for a moment? That could not be. She must have confused the side effects of the neural toxin with the weakness that could be caused by passion. She still felt dizzy... 

Kathryn stumbled over another piece of rock. Chakotay, who had been dragging her along with him faster than her remaining strength would allow her to go, just managed to break her fall. She was completely out of breath and gasped,

"Chakotay, please, not so fast.... I can't..."

Damn that neural toxin!, she thought exasperatedly. She was usually a fast runner. During her academy years she had won quite a few races, despite her rather petite size, and among her former crews she had always been famous for her stamina. Why did this have to affect her now?  Chakotay allowed her a minute's rest. When her breathing had slowed a little she asked,  

"What's your plan?"  

He measured her carefully, then decided that he might as well let her know.  

"I think our only chance to get out of here alive is Voyager. We have to get to the ship before they can take it from us. My ships would be shot down in a matter of seconds. They are too small -- not to mention decades old. Voyager has powerful defenses, and it's by far the biggest vessel we have. But we can't get there using the tunnels. They would find us in no time. We're going to have to crawl through the ventilation system."  

When the shower of protests he had expected didn't rain down on him, he asked a little more gently,  

"Do you think you're up to it?"  

Sarcastically she answered,  

"I didn't realize I had a choice in this."  

"You don't." he asserted a little harsher.

He had noticed that being nice to her had no effect. He had been kind to her when she had been in his quarters, and it had only gotten him into trouble. If he had simply left her tied to the bed she would never have been able to escape in the first place. He was not about to repeat his mistake. It was going to get a little rough this time. Of course he was not going to hurt her, but there was nothing wrong with a little intimidation in order to keep her in line, was there?

Kathryn humphed.

"That's all very good, Chakotay, but how do you suppose to keep them from detecting us on their scanners?"

Uh…oh... This was not going to be easy. The conceit in her voice was driving him crazy.  

"Let me worry about that, Kathryn! I suggest you stay close to me. Then they won't detect you. You try to run from me, they'll find you."

He was not about to tell her about the thoron particle emitter he was carrying with him. Just as well that he always had one on him. Life in the Maquis had taught him that it was always good to be prepared for an emergency. One emitter would be enough to hide both of them from the scanners, as long as she stayed close.  

"Now come on! We've wasted enough time already!"  

The last thing Kathryn wanted to do was follow this big Maquis, who had taken incredible liberties with her only minutes before, and who was going to do god knows what to her in the hours to come.

She hated being so completely out of control, entirely at the mercy of the enemy. The way this man ordered her about made her blood boil. But it seemed that she had little choice in the matter, if she wanted to get out of this mess alive. Chakotay was a terrorist, her enemy. He was dangerous, but compared to the Cardassians he was the lesser evil.

At least she hoped so...


	12. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 12

Chapter 12

She had checked and crosschecked every single connection, and still she had not been able to discover what the problem was. The shields were down, that much was clear. And for all she knew they could have been down for hours. They would never have known if it had not been for the Cardassian warships that were now bombarding the base with their torpedoes. 

"Lojal! When you beamed us aboard the Starfleet vessel this morning, did you have to lower the force field?"  

"Yes. And I swear I put it back up straight after Voyager was secured in the docking bay!" the Bajoran standing next to her defended himself.  

"He's right." Bendera intervened, as he entered what served the Maquis as the control room that covered all of their subterranean base's systems -- not unlike main engineering aboard a starship.

"I saw him do it."  

Lojal exhaled the breath he had been holding for some time now. Finally someone was here to stick up for him. The last thing he needed was the wrath of a half Klingon to hail down on him. He was in enough trouble as it was. If they could not get the shields back up, the Cardassians were going to come in and slaughter everyone. Not that there would be anyone left to slaughter, because if Camet and his people continued to bombard the base the way they were doing now, there soon would not be much left of it, or anyone within it for that matter. The place was already a mess. Ever more chunks of rock tumbled to the ground with every new jolt. The whirling particles of dust in the air made it difficult to see and breathe.

_We're all going to be buried alive...,_ Lojal thought in a burst of panic as he dodged a large piece of rock. It barley missed him.  Lojal had never liked the fact that their current hideout was underground. For the first few months, claustrophobia had almost killed him. Not that he could have told anyone about it. No one cared about such things when their very existence was constantly under threat, each and every day -- except for Lojal...  

"I don't get it!" B'Elanna yelled at no one in particular.

"B'Elanna, we have to get out of here!" Bendera said.

She ignored him. She had twenty people working on this. They could not leave now. They had to find out what was wrong. They had to get the shields up and the weapons online. They could not just run away from the enemy. They had to defend themselves and blast those warships to hell. And Camet with them!   Another torpedo struck the base, and everyone flung themselves to the ground, arms protectively held over their heads. This time it was bad. A large boulder hit a plasma container towards the rear of the room. Another shattered a nearby control panel. The sparks ignited the escaping plasma. The result was a deafening explosion. Bendera heard screams from the rear of the room. The sweet smell of burned flesh spread through air. When the dust of the falling debris had finally settled a little, his eyes beheld in horror that two Maquis had been partially incinerated. Parts of their clothing stuck to an amalgam of blackened flesh, bone, blood and debris. To his relief they were both dead. They could not have suffered for long. He could not even make out who they were. The fire had completely burned out their faces. Bendera fought the urge to retch.

They had to get out of here fast, before they were all killed.

"B'Elanna, forget the shields! We have to get out of here! Now!"  

She would not budge.  

"Everyone out of here, now! Do as Chakotay said! Try to get to Voyager! If any of you run into the Starfleet crew, take them along! Come on, B'Elanna! I don't think the ceiling will hold much longer!"  

B'Elanna was still ignoring him. She felt responsible for their current tactical vulnerability. The Cardassians would never have located them, much less have been able to attack them, if the force field around the base had been active. And weapons were offline, as well. It didn't seem right. As a matter of fact it reeked of sabotage. But she felt that she should have known that something was wrong. She was the chief engineer. The shields and weapons were her responsibility... She felt someone yank at her legs.  

"Come on! There's no time for this!"  

Bendera was trying to drag the half Klingon out from under the console, only to have her boot collide painfully with his jaw.  

"Hey, watch out! Save that for the Spoonheads! Come on, B'Elanna! You've heard Chakotay! That's Camet out there! Are you really that keen on ending up in one of his death camps?"  

B'Elanna took a last look at the console's connections. Everything was in place. The problem must lie somewhere else. But where? The power was online, since environmental controls were still functioning, and the control panels were all lit. So it could not be the power generator. She let out an exasperated growl and shot out form under the console.  

"ALRIGHT! I'm coming!"  

For the first time since the attack had started she took a look around herself. Large chunks of rock, debris and clouds of dust were everywhere. In shock she made out two burned bodies that lay among the rubble -- smoke rising from their blackened forms. Her heart stopped a beat. She had not even realized that someone had died, so self-obsessed had she been under that console. A pang of guilt hit her, as she realized that the two Maquis would probably still be alive, had she ordered everyone to leave the room a few minutes back.

"It's not your fault, B'Elanna! You were trying to do your best to get us out of this mess. But the time for repairs is over. We need to get out of here! Come on!"  

Bendera dragged the shocked engineer along with him. Then the bombing stopped. An unearthly silence settled around the base, only to be suddenly interrupted by the harrowing bellow of the intruder alert claxons. The Cardassians! They were in the base!   B'Elanna pushed all feelings of guilt aside, and they made a mad dash for Voyager. At least that was where she thought Bendera was running. Unexpectedly he turned into one of the smaller tunnels to the left.  

"Kurt, that's not the right way! Where do you think you're going?"  

"To the brig! I'm going to get the Starfleet people!"  

"It's too late for that! You'll never make it! They're not worth it, Bendera! They're our enemies! Let them deal with the Cardies!"  

"No! They're innocent bystanders, Torres! They were dragged into this! You heard Chakotay! He said to help them. And that's exactly what I'm going to do!"  

B'Elanna let out an exasperated growl.  

"Alright! I'm coming! Can't let you go alone now, can I?"  

Bendera gave her an appreciative smile. To be honest, he had not been looking all that forward to his one man mission and was relieved to have some company, even if it was hot-tempered, moody half-Klingon.

_04:00 hours, Brig, Maquis Base     _

The crew was crouched on the floor of their cells, trying to dodge the onslaught of rocks and debris. The force fields on their cells crackled as the power surged on and off, then on again, with each jolt of the base.   Shouts of _"Hey, what's going on?"_ and _"Let us out of here!"_ echoed from the walls of the cells.   The two Maquis guards were just as horror-stricken as their prisoners, trying desperately to avoid being hit by the hail of rocks that descended on them.   Then Chakotay's voice bellowed over the comm-system...  

"This is Chakotay to all hands! We're under attack by Cardassian warships. Help the Starfleet crew out of the brig, and make your way to the docking stations. Try to get out of here somehow, and assist the Starfleet crew! Do not surrender under any circumstances! Camet is leading them! I repeat! Get out of here, and help the Starfleet crew! Camet has come to take over the base! Do not surrender! Chakotay out."  

Expectantly the Starfleet crewmembers looked at the guards. The guards panicked and made a wild dash for it, leaving Voyager's crew trapped in their cells.  

"HEY, WAIT!" Tom Paris shouted after them.

But it was pointless. They were gone.  

"Oh, this is great! The Cardies are about to have a party here, and we're trapped! If that ceiling doesn't crush as us all, Camet and his troops will! And all I wanted was a little parole... I should have stayed in prison! I knew this was a bad idea..."  

"Shut up, Paris!" Lieutenant Rollins barked.  

"The Cardassians are our allies. They've come to get us out of here, you useless piece of shit!"  

"Oh, I love your terms of endearment! Still, it's hardly the time, nor the place for such a demonstration of friendship! You know, I spent one week in the Maquis, and I learned one thing very fast! The Cardassians don't have allies. Especially not Camet! We've got to find a way out of here, before they find us!"  

In the cell at the end of the corridor Tuvok frowned. Cavit had not said a word since the last briefing. He still sat in the same corner of the cell, apart from the rest of the senior officers, eyes dazed with some sort of manic trance.  

"Commander Cavit, I strongly suggest you speak to the crew!"  

Cavit did not acknowledge the Vulcan's presence with as much as a glance. He just sat there, staring into thin air.  

"Sir, you've got to tell the crew to remain calm!"  

Still no response from Cavit.   Tuvok's eyebrows rose in the manner so typical of Vulcans -- the closest they get to a display of emotion. He glanced in the direction of the trouble. It looked like the skirmish between Paris and Rollins was going to turn into dogfight at any moment. Someone had to stop them, before their scuffle turned into a riot that would endanger the entire crew. But it seemed unlikely that Commander Cavit was going to say anything comprehensive for a while... Tuvok's duty as the next in the line of command was clear.  

"Alright. I am afraid that Commander Cavit is indisposed. I am hereby taking over command, as Starfleet protocol dictates. Mr. Paris, you will remain where you are! Mr. Rollins is correct. We have nothing to worry from the Cardassian Empire. They are our allies. Mr. Rollins, I expect more delicate behavior from a Starfleet officer. Your loss of control will be noted in my official log. Furthermore I am ordering you all to remain quietly in your cells, until we are rescued. Is that understood?"  

Reluctant and not so reluctant responses of _"Yes, Sir!"_ came from all directions.  

"Damnit, Tuvok! We're going to die here if we don't get out!" Paris blurted.

"Mr. Paris, I am ordering you to remain silent until asked to do otherwise!"  

Paris was just about to retort when B'Elanna and Bendera burst into the brig, both gasping for air.  

"Okay, people! Listen up! We're going to get you out of here. You'll follow us to Voyager. You've heard Chakotay. We're here to help."

Bendera announced.   Seconds later the force fields were lowered.  

"Remain where you are!" Tuvok ordered.  

Paris ignored the Vulcan and stepped out of his cell.  

"Mr. Paris, you are under orders to remain in your cell!" Tuvok announced.  

"You're forgetting something, Tuvok! I'm not one of the crew, remember? I'm only an observer. I don't have to follow anyone's orders around here. I'm going to get out of this mess, and fast! I suggest the rest of you do the same!"  

B'Elanna stepped forward.  

"I don't believe this! Here we are, risking our skin for you damn Starfleet people, and you refuse our help? For all I care you can go to hell! I'm not going to hang around. Suit yourselves! You deserve everything you'll get!" she wailed.  

The captives were becoming restless. Who should they believe? A bunch of renegades, or their commanding officer? If they disobeyed a direct order, they would have to face a court marshal. But if what Paris and the Maquis claimed was true, then remaining in the cells was tantamount to suicide.   Tuvok's brow creased in thought as he studied the two Maquis. If there really were no danger, then it would be illogical of the Maquis to ask the crew to leave their cells. The Maquis appeared sincere in their effort to help the crew. And could he really ignore this chance to get out of the brig? Was this not the kind of opportunity they had all been waiting for? And then there was the fact that the ceiling was indeed threatening to descend upon them all, although the jolts appeared to have ceased for the moment. Considering all circumstances, remaining in the cells would be entirely illogical.   Tuvok turned towards the two Maquis.  

"Alright! We will come with you to Voyager. I am ordering all crew members to follow these Maquis in an orderly fashion."  

Most of the crew seemed relieved to be able to escape the cells. It was easy to become claustrophobic when god knows how many tons of rock were threatening to cave in on you.   Tuvok addressed the senior officers.

"Ensign Kim, Lieutenant Carey! Commander Cavit requires your assistance."  

The Ensign and Voyager's chief engineer reluctantly approached the commander. But then Strafleet training kicked in, and they picked him up, half carrying, half dragging Cavit out of the cell.  

"Alright. We'll split up in two groups. One led by me, the other one by B'Elanna. This will give us a better chance of reaching Voyager. If we go together and get caught, than that will be the end of it. At least this way, if one group gets caught, the other one might still make it to the ship." Bendera announced.  

Tuvok split the crew into two groups. He, Ensign Kim, Lieutenants Stadi and Rollins, as well as Joseph Carey joined Kurt Bendera's group.   Cavit, now supported by two Ensigns, was assigned to B'Elanna's group, to which Tom Paris had also assigned himself.  

"Alright. B'Elanna and I will take two different routes to Voyager. Follow us! But you're going to have to be quick about it. We don't have much time. The Cardassians will get here any moment. Come on!"  

The two groups went their separate ways.


	13. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 13

Chapter 13

He pulled the panel off the wall with brute force, screws bending and rock crumbling.   Miraculously they had made it back into the main tunnel and located a panel that would give them access to the ventilation shafts, all without being discovered. Kathryn anxiously scanned the main passageway with her eyes. So far they had been able to avoid running into Cardassians.  

Behind the panel was a shaft that somewhat resembled one of Voyager's Jefferies tubes -- about one meter high and roughly the same in width, all walls made entirely from duranium alloy grid. The opening of the shaft was roughly two meters above the floor of the main passageway.  

"Okay, let's get going!", Chakotay whispered.  

Immediately she felt two strong hands close around her waist. Chakotay lifted her high enough for her to crawl into the opening of the shaft.   After she had entered the crawlway, Chakotay pulled himself up, using his feet against the rock for more leverage. He reminded her of a wild cat, climbing a rock face. Seconds later he was with her in the shaft.   There was no way they could re-fix the panel to scatter their tracks. It now lay slightly bend on the ground of the main passageway, two meters below them. Chakotay hoped that the Cardassians would not notice it, since it blended in with the rubble of crumbled rock and dust.   There was not much time. They would have to make it to Voyager fast. Every minute's delay made the risk of discovery greater.  

"I'll go ahead." he said, deliberately keeping his voice hushed as he squeezed past her.

Kathryn pressed herself as tightly as possible against one side of the crammed crawlway. She cringed at the proximity of their bodies as he squeezed past her. The Chakotay began to crawl forward on all fours. Kathryn quietly followed about two meters behind him, wondering once again where the Maquis had taken them. Jefferies tubes in a cave? A ventilation system? Environmental controls? And the Chakotay's earlier words, _'There's no way out...'_ What was this place?

Chakotay turned his head to check on her.  

"Kathryn, you have to keep closer to me. The Cardassians will detect you if you're too far away!"  

She gave him a surprised look. Was he just trying to keep an eye on her, or was there any truth in what he said? Did he carry something that scattered sensor readings? Her scientific mind was trying to figure out how one could possibly avoid scanner detection. A puzzle. It was just what she needed right now. Some scientific riddle to ponder on, so that she could keep panic at bay. She moved a little closer to him but retained a one-meter distance between them. Chakotay sighed.   

"Kathryn, I said closer! I meant as close as possible!"  

She gave him an indignant glare.   

"I'll only move closer if you tell me what this is all about. How can you escape sensor detection?"  

"NO!" he growled as he spun around angrily, coming face to face with a disconcerted Kathryn Janeway.  

"I'll only say this once! No more questions! Do as I tell you! End of discussion!"  

Kathryn swallowed a heated retort. It would not do her much good to upset him now. She needed his help -- at least for the time being. Chakotay was obviously furious with her. Maybe she should just do as he said in this case. After all, what was the harm in moving a little closer? But the man was infuriating...  Grudgingly she moved right behind him.   

She had no idea how he knew in which direction to turn. They came across countless intersections, yet Chakotay never hesitated. Her scraped knees were killing her as she crawled through the maze of metal grid ducts. The grids were engraving a pattern on her hands and knees, cutting painfully into the wounds. At least the cold of the metal was dulling the pain...   Not one word was exchanged between them, since the ventilation system carried even the slightest sound into all directions, echoing it countless times. They did not have much to say to each other anyway, although Kathryn would have loved to hurl an assortment of verbal abuse at the man in front of her.

Every now and then they would pass another panel -- the light from the room beyond the sole source of illumination along their way. Chakotay did not dare to activate his wrist beacon, since its light might be seen from one of the rooms that lay on the other side of the panels.   Periodically he turned his head to check on his hostage.  Before she had entered the ventilation shaft Kathryn had thought that she could not possibly get any colder -- she had been wrong. The cold of the metal conduits spread through her body and froze her to the bone. Her feet had long ceased to be a part of her. For the hundredth time that night she cursed herself for not bringing her shoes. The chattering of her teeth was beginning to be so predominant a sound that she was sure it could be heard all over the base, and her goose bumpy skin had turned an unhealthy hue of blue. She had to force herself to move her stiff joints, and the violent shivers that shook her body did not make the task at hand any easier. On top of that her knees were hurting more and more by the second. She was vaguely aware of the blood trail the wounds on her knees left behind as she continued to move forward. It took all her concentration to simply continue crawling through the shafts. 

"Humph..."  

She had collided with Chakotay's form, who had stopped in front of her.   He turned to look at her. Something was wrong.  

"Kathryn, you're shivering all over. Maybe we should find you something warmer to put on..."  

"I'm alright. Lets just go on."  

But Chakotay ignored her. He put his arms around her and began to rub his warmth into her body. Kathryn stiffened and tried to disengage herself form him, only to loose her balance and fall backwards, her injured feet and knees exposed to his scrutiny.   Chakotay gasped at the sight before him. Her feet and knees were covered in blood. Countless cuts lined the soles of her feet, and there were deep gashes in her knees that could only have been caused by a fall.  

"Why didn't you tell me that you're injured, Kathryn? You can't carry on like that!" he chided.  "It's nothing. I hardly feel it." 

"You really have to stop lying to me! Now let me have a look at that." 

Kathryn recoiled, but he was faster. He bent over her to take a closer look at her injuries.  

"Kathryn, when did that happen to your knees? Those cuts are deep. You've got a lot of dirt in there. You should have mentioned this. There should be a first aid kit somewhere in a room close by. Can you hold on a little longer, until we get to the next panel?"  

"I really don't think that's necessary, Chakotay. We should try to get to Voyager..."  

"I'll determine what's necessary around here. Now come on!"  

A few minutes later they had made it to the next panel. Light shone through the cross pattern of metal. Chakotay peeked into the room. Oh good, Bendera's quarters. He knew exactly where Kurt kept his first aid kit. He and Kurt were good friends and had spent many hours playing poker in this room. The room appeared deserted. He pushed himself against the panel a few times, until it gave way. Then he jumped the two meters down into the room.   Kathryn remained in the small tunnel, waiting anxiously for his return. If what he had said earlier was true, she was now entirely vulnerable to sensor detection until he returned.    Scant minutes later he was back with a medkit and a blanket. He handed the two items to her before climbing back into the shaft.

They had to leave the panel on the floor again. Then they carried on through the air vents for some time, until there was a considerable distance between them and the telltale panel on the floor of Bendera's quarters.   They came to a halt in what must have been one of he darkest spots in the entire ventilation system. No panel in sight.   Chakotay activated his wrist beacon and opened the medkit. Kathryn recognized the case as a standard Starfleet medical kit. However, the contents of the case lacked a lot of equipment. It certainly did not look like one of Voyager's kits. They had all been fully equipped. All those rumors about Starfleet personnel supplying the Maquis must be true, she thought a little surprised.   

"I'm sorry, I don't have a dermal regenerator. These bandages will have to do." he said apologetically and began to disinfect the wounds.  

Kathryn winced as the disinfectant bit into the cuts.  

"I'm sorry."  

"It's alright."

"How did this happen?"

She clenched her teeth. 

"I fell over a piece of rock on the ground ...... when I was trying to find my way back to the main tunnel..."  

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"  

"There seemed to be more pressing matters at the time."  

Chakotay was now rolling the bandages around the last knee. Kathryn was shivering more and more violently. Her skin, where it was exposed, had gone almost purple. He had now finished with her knees and turned his attention to her feet.  

"Where are your shoes?"  

He bent down to get a closer look at her feet, noting with horror that the soles were cut badly and blisters had formed in places -- some of them had begun to weep.  Sharp splinters of rock had embedded themselves into the skin. He could not imagine how she could walk on feet as sore as these.  

"I'll have to disinfect your feet. They look even worse than your knees, Kathryn." he chided.  

"Alright."  

Bravely she endured the disinfectant once again, every now and then wincing almost indiscernibly as the pain escalated to unbearable levels. Then Chakotay wrapped bandages around her feet and tied them at her ankles. Her feet were ice-blocks.  

"These should keep your feet a little warmer, too. We've got to get you warm, Kathryn."  

With those words he reached out for the blanket and wrapped it around her shivering form. He switched off his wrist beacon. Then he turned her around so that her back was now facing him, moving to sit behind her and enfolding her into his arms.  

"Don't touch me!"  

Kathryn was not going to endure this. She would rather freeze to death, than have him touch her like that. With all the power she could muster she pulled away from him.   

"I said, don't touch me!" she hissed.  

"Kathryn, just for a few minutes, until you're warmer. You're ice-cold. We need to get you warm or you won't make it. Now be sensible and come back here!"   

His tone was beginning to be threatening, but she would not give in this time. She had to retain just one little degree of dignity.   Forcefully he pulled her back into his arms. Only this time she was facing him whereas before her back had been turned towards him. 

 "No more struggling, Kathryn! You don't want me to teach you another lesson, do you?" he whispered so close to her ear that she could feel his lips brush it. Kathryn shuddered.

Whether from fear, revulsion, or some other emotion, she could not tell. Chakotay pulled her closer until her head rested against his chest. She was as tense as she could possibly be.   Meanwhile, the feel of her in his arms and the perfume of her hair were driving Chakotay nearly out of his senses. His hands were drawing lazy circles over her back. Magnetically drawn towards her, he moved closer and brushed his lips almost unnoticeably over her hair.   

Kathryn jumped at the intimate touch and fought him with every last remnant of her strength. There was not much left of it. She tried to kick and punch him away from her, but her extremities felt as heavy as lead. One or two desperate tears ran over her cheeks as she realized that she was losing this battle.   Chakotay rolled her onto her back and moved on top of her, pinning her arms and legs to the ground. When he had managed to secure her, he reactivated the beacon with one hand, whilst holding her wrists over her head with the other.  

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Kathryn?"  

He found himself looking at tear streaked and flushed cheeks, and two blue eyes wide with panic. He moved his free hand to her cheeks and gently brushed the tears away.  

"Hush, Kathryn...." he whispered softly. 

Kathryn closed her eyes at his gentle touch. He backed off again, causing her to open her eyes.   Looking straight into her eyes he said softly,  

"You're going to have to learn to trust me."  

With a tired sigh Chakotay got off and lay beside her, pulling Kathryn back into his arms, with her back against his chest.  

"Trust me, Kathryn!"  

And she did, since she was out of options.   

Chakotay continued to draw lazy circles over her back as they lay side by side. He felt her shivers slowly subside beneath his touch.  

"When you're a little warmer we'll continue on our way."  

"I'm fine now. We shouldn't waste anymore time, Chakotay. If the Cardassians get hold of Voyager, we'll never make it out of here."  

Chakotay had to agree with her. And she was not shivering as badly as a few minutes before. Reluctantly he got up and released her.  

"Alright. Lets go then."  

Kathryn exhaled heavily , relieved to finally have escaped his embrace. She tied the blanket around her, and they continued on their way.   Minutes later Chakotay stopped dead in front of yet another panel. The faint light from the room beyond illuminated them both, and he raised a finger to his lips, gesturing her to be quiet.    Then she heard that voice again. Pulling herself together Kathryn moved closer to the panel and peeped through the cross-patterns of metal into the room -- Chakotay's quarters!   The lounge room, to be precise. The place was a mess. Rocks and debris had fallen all over the place, covering carpet, upholstery and furniture. The precious glass cabinets lay shattered, and what had not been ruined by the downpour of rock was being destroyed at the hands of Cardassian soldiers. They had slit the pieces of luscious upholstery and scattered Chakotay's belongings all over the debris covered floor. Kathryn followed the source of the only too familiar voice with her eyes until she saw him. Gul Camet was leaning over the case that contained her things -- handling her garments in a manner so obscene that Kathryn felt her bile rise. When he buried his face in a piece of fine lingerie, she averted her eyes in revulsion.

"It won't be long now, my sweet Kathryn. I can't tell you how much I look forward to our meeting! I have waited such a long time for this moment!"  

He raised his voice to address his men,  

"Any news on Janeway yet?"  

"No, Sir!"  

Camet scowled, then smiled sickeningly to himself.  

"I'll find you, don't you worry, my dear..."  

One of the Cardassian soldiers, who was scanning the room with an instrument reminiscent of a tricorder, walked towards Camet.  

"Sir, I am reading elevated radioactivity from right behind that air vent."  

He pointed towards the panel from behind which Kathryn and Chakotay were watching the drama unfold.  

"Radioactivity from an air vent? What kind, Dunar?"  

"Elevated thoron emissions, Sir. I can't explain it..."  

Camet frowned.  

"Hmm, thoron emissions? Did you scan the ventilation system for lifesigns?"   "Yes, but we did not find any."  

"Lets take a look behind that panel then!" Camet ordered.  

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other in panic. They crawled as fast and quietly as they could away from the panel. Luckily they came across another intersection after a few meters and took a right turn, out of view from the Cardassians. They stopped and listened.   The panel was ripped off the wall.  

"There's nothing here, Sir," another Cardassian soldier announced.  

"Sir, the thoron emissions have disappeared!"  Camet fumed.

Of course. Radioactivity was well known to scatter sensor readings. It usually rendered tricorders, scanners, and countless other equipment useless. Someone was hiding in those shafts, using a thoron generator to avoid detection.   

"Dunar, take some men into the shafts! I want the entire system purged, is that understood?" Camet bellowed.  

"Yes, Sir!"  

Damn! Chakotay took Kathryn's arm and motioned her to come along. They had to get to Voyager before the Cardassians found them.   As quickly as humanly possible they scrambled through the labyrinth of tiny tunnels. Then suddenly they heard a sound just ahead of them. Chakotay stopped.  

"They're coming from over there. We have to go back and take a different turn somewhere."  

They turned, Kathryn now in the lead. At the next junction she took a left-turn, then a right. They were vaguely aware of someone removing a panel only a few meters behind them.  

"Kathryn, we have to get out of here! It's not safe anymore!"  

"How the hell am I supposed to find a way out of here? I have no idea where we are, Chakotay!" 

"Take a right turn at the second junction you come to, and then a left at the fifth after that!"  

"Alright!"  

They rushed through the shafts like hunted animals, not caring anymore if they made noise. The Cardassians were hot on their heals.   Kathryn had now taken the left-turn and her heart jumped a beat as she made out a panel about 20 meters ahead of her.  

"There's a panel! Is that where we get out of here?"  

"Yes! Great!"  

Chakotay pushed with all his might against the panel. It would not yield. The Cardassians were catching up with them. By the sound of it they were going to come into view any second now. In desperation he flung himself against the panel.  It yielded a little. He repeated the action several times, barely registering the pain it caused his shoulder and arm. Finally the panel gave way. Chakotay grabbed a hold of Kathryn and pushed her through the opening into the tunnel below. Her feet had barely reached the ground when she heard Chakotay shout,  

"Run, Kathryn! Don't wait for me!"  

She heard the unmistakable wine of a Cardassian phaser rifle.  

"Chakotay?"  

No response. Lights appeared from the opening and Kathryn broke into a blind run. She ran until her legs would not carry her any further.    Chakotay captured by the Cardassians? He had gotten himself captured to help her escape. His last words echoed through her head...   _"Run, Kathryn! Don't wait for me!"_   Then other words mingled with those...   _"Trust me, Kathryn..."_   She could not leave him at the mercy of Camet and his people. She had to go back to help him. But she would need to find a tricorder.   

Kathryn looked up and down the tunnel. There were a few doors. She just hoped they would open for her...   They did. She entered what were obviously someone's quarters. A large mirror at the rear wall had shattered, probably due to the Cardassian attack. The lights of a replicator with its interface removed illuminated the room. Why had the interface been taken off? Odd...  

She stepped closer to the table next to the replicator and saw what she assumed to be some kind of a tricorder. She opened the lid, only to be greeted by the flashing insignia of the Obsidian Order. Kathryn almost dropped the instrument.

A Cardassian communications device? Did Chakotay have a Cardassian spy within his cell? Of course! That would explain how the Cardassians had discovered the Maquis base, and why Camet knew of her presence here.  It also meant that this was not a very safe place for her to be right now. The spy could return to his or her quarters at any time. Frantically she searched around for a standard tricorder. Eventually she found one and sneaked back into the tunnel. All she had to do was look for the signal from the Starfleet combadge that Chakotay had been wearing.  She opened the tricorder and set it for long range scanning. There it was. A Starfleet signal blinked on the interface apparently from behind a force field about 750 meters away. It would take her awhile to get there through the labyrinth of tunnels...

Gul Camet was restlessly pacing the Maquis captain's quarters. Seska had been watching him for a while.

"Camet, we have to get to Voyager before the Maquis or the Starfleet people take her! Voyager is a vessel with powerful defenses. Everyone here knows that. They could easily escape us with her. And Enabran Tain is counting on us to cease the vessel!"

"Stop your babbling or I will have you thrown into a kennel with 10 starving Toscanar dogs!" Camet bellowed.

"I want to find Kathryn Janeway first! Then I'll think about Voyager! Is that understood?"

"But Sir, she may very well escape you with Voyager's help!"

"Silence, woman! If Janeway escapes, you will take her place in my torture chamber! So you better make sure you find her!"

"Yes, Gul." Seska mumbled.

The man was raving mad. Maybe she should try to contact Tain and let him know that Camet was losing it... Later maybe.

"Dunar to Gul Camet"

"Camet here."

"Sir, we have arrested the Maquis captain! There was someone else with him. Apparently a woman called Kathryn, but we lost her in the tunnels."

"WHAT?"

Camet balled his fists.

"Find her! I'll take a look at our guest, Chakotay!"

"Sir, I'd like to be present when you interrogate Chakotay!"

"I think you've already spent far too much time with the man, Seska. Tain and I were beginning to become suspicious of your loyalties... You'll secure Voyager!"

"Whatever you say, Camet."

Damn! And she had so much wanted to see Chakotay's face when he found out that she was spying on him for the Obsidian Order...

Chakotay was regaining consciousness. The Cardassians had stunned him with one of their phaser pistols before taking him to his own brig. His hands were shackled behind his back. A Cardassian soldier stood guard in front of his cell. On closer inspection he was relieved to see that he was the only prisoner in the brig. Somehow the Starfleet crew must have made it out.  He just hoped that Kathryn had made it, too...

Camet entered the brig with two of his aides.

Chakotay was in the first cell to the right.

"Look what the cat dragged in... Captain Chakotay, freedom fighter, renegade, terrorist -- depending on who you ask. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, captain!"

"I wish I could return the compliment, Camet!" Chakotay hissed.

"Now, now, Chakotay. I understand you had company in the air vents... Who was she?"

"Ha, you'd like to know, wouldn't you? It's a shame you'll never find out!"

Camet sneered.

"You'll tell me eventually!"

The gul turned towards a guard.

"Lower the forcefield!"

The wall of pure energy crackled out of existence.

Camet's aides launched themselves at Chakotay, pounding into him until he almost lost consciousness again.

"Enough! He's still got to be able to talk!" Camet barked.

"Now, are we ready to tell me who the lady in question is?"

Chakotay glowered at the gul.

"Never!"

Camet nodded briefly at his aides who promptly commenced battering the Maquis captain. Unforgiving they booted him, until he heard his ribs crack. One of them kicked him firmly in the stomach, and Chakotay doubled over, retching helplessly. The other one thrashed his elbow into his neck. Chakotay staggered briefly, then blacked out.

"Raise the forcefield! We'll try this again, later."

A sickening grin distorted Camet's features as he made his way back to Chakotay's quarters.

B'Elanna and her group were making their way to Voyager through the tunnels of the base. However, their progress was slow, since they had to avoid tripping over the rocks and debris in their way. The place had turned into an obstacle course...

Cavit was nothing but a burden, supported by two ensigns who dragged his dead weight along with them.   Soon they had turned so many corners that the Starfleet crew had lost all orientation. Despite all caution, several people tripped and fell over the countless obstacles in their way, as they tried to run faster than was possible under the circumstances. Some were injured so badly that they had to be helped by others in order to continue on their journey, evermore slowing down their escape.  

"How far is it to Voyager?" Paris asked B'Elanna, who was trying her damn best to be uncivil.  

"Far enough! Now shut up!"   

"I don't think we can make it this way, B'Elanna. It won't take them long to find us. There are just too many injured. We should try the ventilation shafts instead."  

"There are too many of us, Paris! It would take too long to get everyone in!"   

"If we carry on this way, it won't take long before they find us! And then what? "  

She stopped exasperatedly and turned towards the object of her conceit.  

"Alright then! But I still don't think it's going to work!"  

"If this won't work, then nothing will!"  

As much as she hated Paris, she had to admit that he had a point. She realized that the Cardassians could be lurking around every corner, waiting for them. If they carried on this way, they would end up running right into the arms of the Spoonheads. Not a pleasant picture!  

"Okay, flyboy, how about moving this panel then, so we can all get in?"  

"I could do with a little Klingon elbow-grease!" he countered far too cheerfully for her taste.

She wanted to beat the arrogant pig into a pulp, but it would have to wait until they were all safe. Together they managed to tear the panel off the wall. Getting everyone in there was going to be a real problem. Why did the panels have to be two meters above ground? It made maintenance a bloody hassle, not to mention escape from an army of bloodthirsty Cardassians...  

"Okay, everyone! Listen up! We're going to try our luck in the air vents! There's less chance of running into Cardassians in there. We'll be lifting you into the shaft one by one. Paris and I will come in last, and then I'll lead you through it. Now if you just want to take up position in front of this entrance..."  

"Nice try, B'Elanna. But I'm afraid there's been a change of plan!" a familiar voice hissed.  

Seska rounded a corner, a troop of Cardassian guards in her trail.   

"Seska?... What are you doing with the Spoonheads?"  

Tom Paris did not need to hear the answer. It was obvious. Seska was in league with the Cardassians. Without a second thought he snatched B'Elanna's phaser and fired blindly at the Cardassians.

"RUN!" he shouted.

Tom used the ensuing confusion to pull himself up into the air vent. Then he ran as he had never run before...

Everyone else ducked as the Cardassians opened fire. Suddenly Cavit rose and lulled,

"What are you all doing? There's nothing to fear from these people. They're our allies, aren't you?"

He staggered towards Seska and the Cardassian soldiers.

Seska adjusted the settings on her phaser rifle and aimed at the deranged Starfleet officer. Cavit vaporized in front of everyone's eyes.

A sardonic smile on her face she jeered,

"I suggest you follow us peacefully. I wouldn't try anything if I were you."  B'Elanna stared at her.

"Time to face the facts, B'Elanna. I had you fooled with my Bajoran act, didn't I? Poor B'Elanna... Now, move everyone! I'm going to take you to meet a friend of mine. You may have heard of Gul Camet..."  Seska grinned shamelessly.

B'Elanna paled. She felt her heart sink into her pants. Seska? Her friend Seska had been working for the Spoonheads all this time? How could she have fallen for this charade? And Chakotay... She hoped to god he would never find out about this. So she had run into a Cardassian trap... Chances were the Spoonheads were going to kill all of them, so she might as well spend her last breath on getting even with Seska.

With a perfect impression of Klingon warrior cry she launched herself on the woman, whom she had come to think of as her friend

Something hit her hard, and then there was nothing but darkness and peace for a while...


	14. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Tom Paris sat crouched in one of the many ducts of the ventilation system, trying to determine his whereabouts. He had crawled like a man possessed for what seemed an eternity. Several times he had heard voices and followed them, but each time they had turned out to be the voices of the dreaded Cardassians. Not knowing where he was going, he crawled on and on through the labyrinth of narrow tunnels, his heart beating ever faster and little droplets of perspiration collecting on his forehead while he tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than on his ever more pressing feelings of claustrophobia. He had suffered from a fear of tight places for as long as he could remember, but right now was not the time to panic and give into it. Too many people depended on him...

Tom had only been a member of the Maquis for one week, and he had never set eyes on this base before. He concluded that Chakotay and his cell had moved here some time after his arrest. Tom's chances of finding Tuvok, Bendera and the rest of the crew were pretty low, to say the least. But he was not about to give up. The fate of over a hundred people depended on him, and he could not let them down. He would give it his best shot. Thomas Eugene Paris was not going to disappoint anyone this time, least of all himself.

Holding his breath in order to hear better, he pressed his ear against the cold metal wall of the shaft and listened carefully for any sounds that might lead him to the others. At first he heard nothing. Then there was a small thumping sound, as if someone or something was moving through the crawlways. He decided to follow that sound, periodically stopping to press his ear against the wall again, listening for any sounds that might lead him to Tuvok and the others. He was definitely getting closer to the source of the thumping.

Then it stopped, only to be replaced by something else. A low hum. Tom kept tracking it until the humming metamorphosed into a more familiar sound -- hushed voices. Several people were whispering somewhere, not far from him. Quietly he crawled towards the voices, careful not to make any noise, in case these voices once again belonged to the enemy. A few minutes later he turned a corner, and was greeted by the sight of a large group of people clad in Starfleet uniforms -- Tuvok's and Bendera's group. Relieved, he called out in a hushed voice,

"Tuvok, Bendera! It's me, Tom Paris!"  Everyone turned in surprise.

"Why did you leave your group, Mr. Paris?" the Vulcan security officer asked, both eyebrows raised.

"The others got caught. We have to go back to help them!"

Without warning Bendera hurled himself at Paris. 

"You bastard! You deserted them!" 

Several Starfleet officers pulled the quarreling twosome apart. 

"I didn't desert them, you fool!"

Tom spat when he had caught his breath, rubbing at his bloody nose.

"It's Seska! She turned up with a bunch of Spoonheads. We ran right into her trap. She's in league with the Cardassians. She's probably the cause of this whole mess!" 

"WHAT?"  

Bendera could not believe what he was hearing. Seska? A Cardassian spy? Impossible! She used to get so much satisfaction out of blowing the Spoonheads to pieces. Then again, she used to feel the same way about attacking Federation ships... With a jolt he remembered their strange meeting in the tunnels, when everyone had been looking for the Starfleet captain. Seska had been taking one of the small tunnels that led nowhere near where Captain Janeway could possibly had made it by that time. He had found it a little odd then but had shrugged it off, not thinking too much of it. Now that he thought about it, that tunnel had only one destination -- the main power generator. The shields! She must have deactivated their defense systems from there... shields, weapons, you name it. That was why B'Elanna and her team had not been able to find the source of the problem. Damn! If only he had been able to see it then... 

"Okay, Paris. I'm going with you to get them out of there."

But Tom's mind was temporarily distracted by the view in front of him. In awe his gaze was fixed at the panel at the end of the tunnel.

"Voyager! You've made it!" he exhaled.

"Yeah, well, lets make sure the others make it, too!" Bendera added.

"Mr. Bendera, may I remind you that you are in possession of the only combadge in this group? I think you should leave it with us. We need to find a way to get aboard the ship, and every piece of technology could be of help." 

There was not much Bendera could do with the combadge anyway, so he relinquished it to Tuvok.  

"I must tell you that I don't think it is wise of you to try and free the others in this relentless fashion. Your chances of success are minimal. I would suggest you wait, until we have found a way to board Voyager. We might be able to beam the hostages aboard."

Kurt Bendera shook his head.

"It maybe too late, then. We have to try and get them out of there now. The Cardassians won't hang around here for long. We'll be lucky if they haven't killed everyone already. We can't delay this."

Bendera explained.  Tuvok nodded in agreement.

"Good luck to you both!"

"Thanks." they both replied in unison. 

"We'll need it!" Tom mumbled quietly. He knew only too well that they were embarking on a suicide mission.

Kathryn hid in the shadows of yet another tunnel. She had made it to the passageway that led to the brig. She could see the entrance. Only a few more meters, and she would be there. Once again she checked the readings on her tricorder. The Starfleet combadge signal was still flashing brightly. However, the lifesigns of the person it was attached to were getting weaker. Her heart skipped a beat. What had they done to him? She could not afford to ponder on these kinds of questions right now. She needed to concentrate on her rescue mission. The forcefield on the cell was still active. She would have to deactivate it somehow. That might prove to be problem...  Lets cross that bridge when we get to it, she thought. An eerie silence had descended on the Maquis base. She had not heard a sound since the Cardassians had captured Chakotay. She presumed they were looking for her, and she had expected them to be everywhere, yet she had not seen a single Cardassian since the incident at the panel. A gut feeling told her that something was very wrong here. Nevertheless she continued on her mission to free Chakotay. He had sacrificed himself for her safety. She owed him the same.

Kathryn took a deep breath and peeked into both directions of the passageway that would lead her to Chakotay. It was deserted. She pressed herself tightly against the wall and crept along the rock face. Approaching the entrance to the brig, she became aware of a shuffling sound. On closer inspection she realized that what she was hearing must be a guard, pacing up and down in front of the cells. Now, there was a problem! She had no weapons, and Cardassians were known to be formidable opponents in hand-to-hand combat.

She took a look around herself. There had to be something she could use as a weapon... Finally she picked up one of the chunks of rock that had fallen to the ground during the initial attack on the base. The rock was heavy enough to knock out a Cardassian, but light enough for her to lift it over her head, so she could get a good angle on the guard's skull.   Then she tiptoed the last few meters to the brig and peeked around the corner. There he was, at the far end of the corridor, in front of the cells, his back turned to her. She would have to wait for him to come back to her end.  Kathryn pressed herself tightly against the rock face of the passageway, right next to the entrance of the brig. She heard the Cardassian's dragging footsteps approach, the shuffle getting louder and louder, the closer he came. Her heart was beating wildly as she focused her entire concentration on the sound of his dragging feet. When she heard the unmistakable crunch of debris under his heavy boots, as he turned on his heels to pace back into the other direction, she jumped out from behind the wall and brought the rock full force down onto his skull. The Cardassian yelped and turned in surprise, but did not fall. He was at least two feet taller than Kathryn, and a snarl of anger erupted from his throat as he took in who had struck him. Then, just as she thought he was going to launch himself at her, his eyes glazed over and he tumbled to the ground. Blood from a nasty gash on his head flowed freely onto the ground . Kathryn bent down to run her tricorder over the body. He was dead...

Still no sound to be heard. Something was definitely wrong. Janeway looked around herself. The brig seemed deserted, yet she had read Chakotay's lifesigns here. She would have expected him to call out to her by now. Surely he must have heard the Cardassian guard collapse. She moved to take a closer look at the prison.

Kathryn gasped as she discovered the body of the Maquis captain stretched out on the cold, moist ground of one of the cells. His face was badly bruised, swollen and crusted with dried blood.

She called out to him repeatedly, but got no response. He was unconscious. The forcefield was active. She looked around for the mechanism to turn it off, found it and deactivated the energy barrier.  Kathryn entered the cell, and knelt on the floor next to the Maquis captain. He was still breathing, and she could feel his pulse as she touched a hand to his neck. But he did not look good. He had been cruelly beaten. Scanning him with the tricorder, she found that he had suffered a mild concussion, five broken ribs and a broken arm, not to mention multiple bruising and lacerations. There was no way she could carry him out of here. He was simply too heavy. She would have to find a way to wake him.

"Chakotay..."

She gently stroked a hand over his cold cheek and forehead. 

"Chakotay, please, wake up!" 

He moaned softly. 

"Oh Chakotay, what have they done to you?" she whispered, appalled at the way the Cardassians had treated him.  He opened his eyes and blinked at her through swollen, discolored eyelids.

"Oh, thank heavens, Chakotay! We have to get out of here. I can't carry you. Do you think you can walk if I steady you?" 

Chakotay blinked again. 

"Kathryn?" he rasped. 

"Yes, I'm going to get you out of here. Now come on, try to sit up!" 

He tried and winced as his broken ribs stabbed the very organs they were meant to protect.  

"Kathryn, you shouldn't be here..." he began to protest.

But she was determined, trying to steady him and helping him up.  

"Hush, don't talk. Try to concentrate on getting out of here!" she whispered back. 

The sudden sound of distant voices and fast approaching footsteps startled her. 

"Come on! We don't have much time! Someone's coming!" 

"Go, Kathryn! I can't make it!" 

"No, I won't leave you here..."

She could not simply leave him there after he had sacrificed himself for her safety. He certainly had not always behaved like a gentleman in her presence, but he did not deserve to suffer like this. Not after all he had done for her. She tried to help him up, attempting to support the bulk of his body with her own slight form, but there was just no way that it was going to work. Gravity was against them.  Then the voices came closer and footsteps entered the brig. Kathryn froze. Time had just run out -- for both of them. Maybe if she did not move, kept entirely still, they would not notice her... It was a long shot, but it was the only option left to her.   Seska entered the brig.  

"What the hell..."

Surprised she looked down at the dead Cardassian guard. Seska spun around and stared straight into Chakotay's cell. Her face lit up in a lecherous smile. 

"Oh my! This is just too good to be true! Captain Kathryn Janeway locks herself in the enemy's jail... Camet will be so please with me!" 

Kathryn looked on in horror as Seska smirked and tapped her Cardassian combadge, all the while keeping a phaser rifle trained on her. 

"Seska to Camet." 

"What is it now, Seska?" 

"I've got something for you in the brig, Camet. I think you'll be very pleased with me this time! It's about 5'5'' tall and has long auburn hair..." 

"You've found her! I'll be there in a minute! Camet out!" 

"Put the others into the cells!" Seska ordered the Cardassian guards at her side.  

"You'll pay for this, Seska, if it's the last thing I do!"

B'Elanna yelled as she was shoved into the neighboring cell. She had only recently returned to consciousness after receiving a nasty blow to the head, courtesy of one of the Cardassian guards.  

"I don't think you'll have the opportunity, my friend." Seska sneered.  

Outwardly composed, Kathryn was frantic. Chakotay had lost consciousness again, and she was trapped. Seska had reactivated the forcefield to Chakotay's cell. There was no way either of them would make it out of here now. Chakotay looked terrible. He urgently required medical attention, but she was pretty sure he was not going to get it any time soon. She caressed his face again, cradling his head in her lap. He had felt so cold only minutes before. Now he was burning up...  

"Oh, isn't it touching!" a raspy baritone voice boomed into the cell. 

Kathryn's head shot up. There he stood. Gul Camet in all his gruesome glory -- a sardonic smile distorting his cartilaginous features, black hair greased back, sharp yellow teeth showing against the sickly pale gray of his skin. A shiver went down her spine as the memory of his foul breath returned unbidden. He looked even larger and more horrifying than she had remembered him. Kathryn swallowed hard.

"Gul Camet." she forced out through clenched teeth. 

"Kathryn Janeway! What a pleasure to see you again, my dear. I have been waiting a long time for this moment." 

"I wish I could say the same..." she mumbled, more to herself than to Camet. 

"So, I see you've been getting rather friendly with your Maquis captor. I hope you'll be just as nice to your new Cardassian one..." 

"Go to hell, Camet!" she fumed. 

"Oh, you first, my dear! You first! Seska, lower the forcefield on this cell!" 

"Camet, you're in breach of the Federation - Cardassian Treaty of 2370..."  "Oh, now come on, Kathryn. You know as well as I do that I don't give a damn about that petty piece of diplomatic drool." 

The forcefield zapped out of existence, and Camet entered the cell. Kathryn's blood was pounding in her ears. This could not be happening...  He grabbed her roughly and pulled her away from Chakotay, whose head landed on the ground with a thump that made Kathryn wince in sympathy. Then Camet touched his combadge.  "Camet to the Tokar Zebok! Two to beam up straight to my quarters!"

The green-yellow beam of the Cardassian transporter enfolded her, and she felt an unfamiliar tingling sensation, different from that caused by Federation transporters.

The interior of Camet's quarters slowly took shape before her. The bulkheads were made from some kind of steel gray and brown metallic compound. Angled arches gave the place a distinctly Cardassian ambience. The lights had been dimmed, or maybe that was all the light there was. She could not tell. As they adjusted to the dimness, Kathryn's eyes were magnetically drawn to an object in the center of the room. A black table, forged from some kind of metal, loomed there. Straps of black leather were attached to the edges. From the far end of the table hung several tools. Kathryn shuddered. Torture instruments. Right in the middle of the table lay a tiny flat and round object, made from a polymer that mimicked the appearance of skin -- the implant the Cardassians inserted into their prisoners in order to cause unbearable pain, without causing too much physical damage. The thing they had used on Owen Paris all those years ago. The tool that had almost robbed the Admiral of his sanity. Again Gul Camet's words from so long ago unbiddenly repeated themselves time and again in her mind...

"Power. Control. The satisfaction of completely breaking another being."

Kathryn could not take her eyes off the obsidian table and its horrifying accessories. Her fascination with it did not escape her captor.

"You like it, my dear? I designed it especially for you. You're going to spend a lot of time with it." he mocked.

Kathryn deliberately tore her eyes from the object of her terror and looked Camet straight in the eye.

"You'll never get away with this, Camet! If you carry through your little fantasy, your own people will see to it that you get stripped of all your ranks, if not worse!"

"Oh, Kathryn, you're so wonderfully naive! Who do you think sent me here? You don't really believe that the Cardassian Empire needs the Federation as an ally? I thought the dashing Maquis captain down there might have opened your eyes by now. Enabran Tain has ordered me to take the base and dispose of everyone, including the Starfleet crew of the U.S.S. Voyager. How I do it is up to me. So, you see, I'm just following orders."

The demonic grin he gave her almost made her retch. But she knew what she had to do. Stall for time, as much time as possible, and try to find a way to get out of here...

"And how exactly do you intend to kill everyone?" she probed.

"Ah, always the inquisitive one! I like that about you. But to answer your question, my dear, I'm going to blow up the asteroid. I hope you've had ample time to say good-bye to your friends. I understand you care a great deal about your crew. And you and Chakotay seemed to be getting along pretty well down there. I would almost call it fair payback for my son's death. But I suppose the useless fool deserved it.... Now, why don't we get comfortable over there?"

Camet pointed towards a large bed, covered in various precious bedspreads and cushions made form pure silk and damask.

"No, thanks. I'm quite comfortable where I am." Kathryn hissed.

Camet's grotesque features darkened.

"That wasn't a question, Kathryn! Now move! Or we can skip the hospitalities and get right to the point, if you prefer that!"

He shot a glance in the direction of the torture table to stress his point.

"You will tell me anything I ask, you will betray your mother, your father, your friends, and beg to betray others if I will just stop hurting you. That would be just before you went insane..."

Camet had not spoken a word, yet Kathryn could still hear his voice as if he were saying it right now. Thirteen years, and she could still remember every last syllable.

Stall for time, Kathryn... she thought.

Chakotay woke as soft fingers caressed his bruised face. A glass of water was put to his lips, and he drank eagerly.

"Well, it's about time, Chakotay! I've been sitting here for an eternity. Oh, it's a shame about you. Such an impressive specimen for a human. You should never have scorned me, Chakotay. That was a big mistake. I was happy to let them have only tiny snippets of information, until you dumped me for that pathetic human woman -- Janeway. Now, look at what you've done!"

She gestured dramatically around them with her arms.

"Everything destroyed and your crew in the hands of the Cardassians. That really wasn't wise of you, my love." she purred.

Chakotay's head shot up to look at the source of the voice that he thought he recognized. It couldn't be....

"Seska?"

"Yes, Chakotay, it's me. I've been working with Camet all this time. Oh, if you could see the look on your face, it's truly priceless! I've so anticipated this moment! To finally see you at our mercy!"

"Kathryn..." he murmured.

"Oh, that was wonderful. I can't believe you missed it. She came to rescue you. She was still in your cell, trying to get you out, when I discovered her. I think Camet will be rewarding me very generously. You should have seen his face when he first saw her. I'm sure she's having a marvelous time with him right now. He took her to the ship -- his quarters to be precise."

Her eyes shown with cruel delight as she told him about Janeway's fate.

"You never suspected me, did you? You really had no idea! You actually believed all that bullshit about my family having been killed by the Cardassians, didn't you? Well, prepare yourself for another shock, my darling! My family is Cardassian! I am Cardassian! I've been genetically altered by the Obsidian Order to appear Bajoran, but believe me, under this stupid wrinkled nose and this sickeningly smooth skin there's Cardassian blood flowing through these veins!"

Seska snickered.

"You really are a picture, Chakotay! It almost makes me wish I hadn't sent the guard away. I would have loved to share this with someone of my own kind!"

He had stared at her incredulously throughout her speech. But now reality was beginning to sink in. She had betrayed him, had deceived them all. And he had trusted her. Fool!, he thought as untamed fury rose form the pit of his stomach. He was going to make her pay for what she had done to them. Seska had risen and turned to leave the cell, when the wrath within him caused an adrenalin rush that was strong enough to allow him to launch his battered body at her, all pain suddenly gone numb.

Seska had been taken utterly by surprise. He hurled her onto the ground and threw himself on top of her. She managed to turn and face him, but she could not push his bulky weight of her.

"You'll pay for this!" he hissed.

Then he closed his hands around her neck and pressed as hard as he could. He felt something break under his fingers, and her face went purple as she gulped for breath. She tried to scream, but her words had no sound. Chakotay watched untouched us the flame of her life was slowly extinguished by his unforgiving fists. He did not feel a thing. Usually his general respect for all life left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth after the killing of an enemy. This time it was different. The bitter taste had already been present, and now cold-blooded revenge was beginning to sweeten it.

He did not care about the consequences of killing a member of the Obsidian Order, whilst being one of their prisoners. They were going to kill him anyway, and this was worth every little bit of extra torture they might inflict on him out of vengeance.

Kathryn...

If only he had managed to stay awake and get out of the cell with her. They probably would have made it out of the brig before Seska's arrival. As it was he had himself to blame for her capture. If only she had listened to him when he had asked her to leave him behind. But she had refused to do that. Now Camet had her. He did not even want to imagine what that butcher was doing to her right now. Tears began to well in his swollen eyes.

Oh Kathryn...

Kathryn swallowed hard and followed the gul's lead. He sat down in front of her on the bed and looked her up and down as if he were undressing her with his eyes.

"Maybe we should find you something more comfortable to wear..."

Camet got up again and walked to a dark corner of the room, rummaging around for something. He returned with garments that she knew only to well. Her peach robe and a matching negligee. The robe she had left in Chakotay's quarters, but the negligee? She had discarded hers somewhere in the tunnels when she had changed into the dress. Camet must have replicated this one. Why was she so surprised? She knew exactly what was on the agenda. First he was going to amuse himself with her, and then he would slowly kill her with his beloved toys. He had explained the proceedings to her thirteen years ago. Yet, she still had a hard time coming to terms with them.

"Here! Put that on!"

He shoved the silky nightwear into her hands.

"What's in it for me?" she asked slyly, attempting to distract him with conversation. Keep him talking, she thought. It had worked the first time she had been in his custody, so it might just work again. Although she needed a miracle to get her out of this one...

She did not expect him to react the way he did. Camet's eyes darkened. Suddenly he threw her onto the bed, immobilizing her with the mass of his large body, and pushing the air out of her lungs. She could not breathe. Yet somehow she could still smell his rotten breath, as it caressed her face in a repugnant embrace. Kathryn felt her bile rise.

"You'll get to live a little longer, my dear! Don't ever provoke me again!"

Camet's door chime sounded. With a maniacal howl he violently pushed himself off the bed . For a few seconds she thought he was going to strike her. But he stood and straightened his scaly black and silver uniform. The sound of the straightening fabric gave Kathryn the creeps. The scaly Cardassian uniforms lend their wearers a distinctly reptilian appearance. Together with a Cardassians cartilaginous looks, they melded into a grueling picture, giving the illusion of being a natural extension of their owners.

"Come!" Camet roared.

The door slid open to expose a Cardassian soldier. He moved two steps into the room, then halted.

"Sir, Enabran Tain wants to speak to you. Shall I put him through to your quarters?"

Camet threw a quick glance in Kathryn's direction.

"No, I'll take it on the bridge. I'll be there in a moment, Dunar!"

Dunar turned on his heels and left the room. Camet faced Kathryn, pointed at the silky garments in her hands and barked,

"I'll expect you to be wearing that when I return!"

  



	15. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_U.S.S. Voyager, 07:30 hours_

Aboard the Federation starship Voyager systems were beginning to shut down one by one, an automatic response to prevent unnecessary consumption of energy. The ship's internal sensors recognized that no one was aboard. Life support was terminated, lights went to minimum illumination, the warp core was shut down. There was only one part of the ship that still functioned at full capacity...

Voyager's monotonous female computer voice resounded eerily through the empty ship.

"Initiating 18 hour delay backup EMH field test program."

The holographic image of Voyager's only medical staff sparkled into existence for the very first time since the start of the mission.

"What is the nature of the medical emergency?" he asked stoically.

When no answer seemed to be forthcoming his stoical features came to life. The first emotions the holographic doctor was to express were those of surprise and annoyance. Frowning, he looked around himself. He was in sickbay, as was to be expected. But there was no one there. After indulging in a slightly overdone exasperated sigh, he asked,

"Computer, this is the EMH. Why was I activated?"

"Standard EMH field test protocol states that in case of neglect for more than eighteen hours the computer is to initiate the EMH field test. The EMH has not been activated since the start of this mission, 18 hours, 2 minutes, 53 seconds ago."

"Oh, this is typical! They forgot about me!"

He huffed a little more and then went over to the comm system.

"Sickbay to Bridge!" he said almost cheerfully.

There was no answer.

"Sickbay to Captain Janeway!" he stated, now a trifle annoyed.

Still nothing. The EMH rolled his holographic eyes.

"Computer, locate the captain!"

"Captain Janeway is not aboard Voyager!"

"Alright, Sickbay to Engineering!"

Silence.

The hologram was now showing obvious signs of confusion, but above all irritation. After another exasperated sigh he announced,

"This is sickbay to any crew member! ... Computer, is the comm system malfunctioning?"

"Negative."

"Then why can't I reach anyone?"

"There is no one aboard the ship!"

"What? Then where is everyone?"

"Please restate your question."

"Where is the crew?"

"The crew left the ship approximately 12 hours ago."

"All of them?"

"Affirmative."

The EMH began to pace his domain impatiently, rubbing his chin, apparently submerged in deep thought. Finally he asked,

"Computer, where are we?"

"We are inside a class K asteroid, orbiting the planet Panora II, Moriya System, Badlands, Sector 21504."

"Aha, so we've gone for a little stroll inside an asteroid with no breathable atmosphere. That sounds like fun! Are they out of their minds?" he asked, his voice tinted with more than a little sarcasm.

"Please restate the question."

"Oh, shut up! I wasn't talking to you..."

_Maquis Brig, 07:45 hours_

The cells were full once again. Most of the Maquis crew sat squatted on the floor of the brig. Some of them were engaging in hushed conversation, but most of them had given into their feelings of exhaustion and fear, and had begun to doze. Chakotay sat brooding. He did not really have anyone to talk to, since he was the only occupant of his cell, except for the strangled body of his ex-lover, Seska. He did not even see her anymore. Time and again his thoughts drifted back to Kathryn... he blamed himself for her capture. She could have escaped if she had not come back to rescue him. She would never have been in danger in the first place if he and his cell had left Voyager and her crew alone in the first place... if he had not trusted Seska... How could he not have seen it? Seska was a traitor, and he had never suspected it. Now Kathryn was suffering, probably dying, if not dead already, and it was all his fault...

A scraping sound from somewhere above him drew Chakotay out of the doom and gloom of his dark thoughts. He looked for the source of the sound and his eyes zoomed in on a ventilation panel in the ceiling of the corridor, outside the cells. Seconds later the panel crashed noisily onto the stony floor. Bendera and Paris emerged from the small opening. Jumping down he three meters difference between the ceiling and the ground the two men rescue mission landed right in front of Chakotay's cell, only to be shocked by the sight of the Maquis captain's ex-lovers dead body. Her face was still blue and purple rings lined her neck. Both men recognized immediately what had happened here.

"I couldn't have done it better myself..." Bendera hissed.

"You've gotta do something about your taste in women, Chakotay!" Paris quipped, but sobered as Chakotay's eyes met his.

The Maquis captain was in no mood for jokes. Paris would never forget those eyes, so hollow and haunted.

Only then both Kurt and Tom took in Chakotay's battered appearance.

"Oh hell, what have those bastards done to you? Lets get you out of here before they come back!"

Bendera deactivated the force fields and everyone got out of their cells.

"Where's Captain Janeway?" Kurt asked as he searched the brig.

The last thing he remembered was that Chakotay had apparently found her in one of the tunnels. He had expected to find her with him, or at least in the brig.

Chakotay eyes took on a pleading look.

"Camet's got her...We've got to get her out of there, Kurt!"

Bendera eyed his friend in disbelieve.

"Chakotay, that's not going to be possible. We'll be lucky if we get you out of here. We'll see what we can do about helping her when we get to Voyager."

"No! It may be to late by that time. He's taken her to his ship. The man is obsessed with her."

Bendera was beginning to think that the stress of the past few hours had gotten to his captain. Why would Camet be obsessed with Captain Janeway? It did not make any sense. As far as he could tell, the only one who seemed to be obsessed with her was Chakotay...

"Chakotay, we have to get you out of here first. There's nothing we can do about Janeway now! It'll have to wait!"

Chakotay gathered all his strength and hauled himself up, grabbing Kurt by the shoulders and staring him straight into the eyes.

"Bendera, you don't get it, do you? Camet didn't come here for us! He came here to get Kathryn. They've got an old score to settle. He's been trying to get his hands on her for thirteen years. We've got to help her!"

For a brief moment Bendera questioned his captain's sanity, but then understanding began to dawn on him. If what Chakotay said was true, then it was unlikely they were going to get her out of Camet's claws alive. He looked at his captain and noticed more than common concern in his eyes.

"You really care about her, don't you?"

Chakotay nodded.

"Yes, I do. She's a remarkable woman. She came to get me out of here. Seska discovered her and locked her into the cell. Then she called Camet."

Kurt took another look at the suffocated body in Chakotay's cell. He could only imagine how much hate Chakotay harbored for her.

"Let's get you out of here first. We can't do anything from here. We'll have to wait until we get to Voyager."

Chakotay agreed reluctantly. He knew that it may very well be too late for a rescue attempt by the time they got to the vessel, but there was nothing else they could do.

A few meters away B'Elanna stared at Tom.

"Paris, I thought you..."

"You thought I'd run off and deserted you, coward that I am." he finished for her.

"I guess I was wrong. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He gave her faint smile, and their eyes locked for the briefest of moments.

"Hey, I need someone to help me with Chakotay!" Bendera shouted.

Paris went back to him and helped him drag the Maquis captain out of the cell.  The other Maquis had all been released from their cells and stood waiting in the corridor.

"Alright, lets try this again! Follow us, everyone!"

At that very moment the thunder of a heavy booted Cardassian patrol could be heard. Everyone's heart stopped. They would never make it now. They were doomed.

The Cardassian's entered the brig, surprised to find their captives outside their cells. They trained their disruptors on them and were about to herd them back into the cells when one of them discovered the dead body of Seska in Chakotay's cell.

"Hey, that guy killed Seska!" he yelled, pointing at the badly battered Maquis captain.

Two guards got a hold of him, and a third one was just about to deliver a nasty blow to his stomach when a familiar blue sparkle suddenly surrounded them all.

The Cardassians were left flabbergasted and staring into plain air where their captives had been before.

_Ventilation Shaft, 07:45 hours_

Tuvok, Kim, Stadi and Carey were discussing the possibilities of how to get to Voyager. The ship was surrounded by Cardassian guards. Tuvok was surprised they had not boarded the vessel yet. He would have thought that securing Voyager was their top priority. Maybe Camet was otherwise occupied. Now that they knew that Seska was a Cardassian spy it was not entirely unlikely that Camet knew Kathryn Janeway was in the base. And if he did, then that would certainly explain why Camet seemed to be too preoccupied to send a boarding party aboard the ship. As it was, the fact that the Cardassians had not boarded Voyager yet, was pretty much the only point to the Starfleet crew's advantage. They had to act quickly if they did not want to loose the only point in their favor.

They could not afford to have their presence detected. The Cardassian guards were heavily armed, and the crew did not even have a single handphaser at their disposal. The odds were stacked highly against them. Voyager was only meters away from them, yet seemed entirely out of reach. There had to be a way to get aboard.

Suddenly the combadge that Bendera had left behind came to life.

Stunned, everyone was mesmerized by the tiny transmitter on Tuvok's uniform. He raised an eyebrow, than answered the hail.

"Yes?"

"Well, hello there! This is the Emergency Medical Holographic Program. May I ask who I finally have the pleasure of speaking to?"

Tuvok frowned at the arrogance of the voice that was coming over his combadge. The others were speechless.

"This is Lieutenant Tuvok, Chief of Security and Tactical Officer of the U.S.S. Voyager. May I ask how you were able to contact us?"

"Indeed, you may! As you may or may not be aware of, this mission was going to be a test ride for my program. I have been monitoring the crew since we left DS9. I must complain about the lack of interest in my program. No one has activated me since the start of the mission. I'm eager to hear what Captain Janeway will enter into the official EMH test log, since there hasn't been a test. Just as well the computer was programmed to activate me after 18 hours. I'll be sure to lodge a complaint in my official log. And may I ask what you're all doing off the ship? As I understand it's against Starfleet procedure to desert the ship during a mission. There should at least be a skeletal crew aboard!"

The aloof attitude of this particular babbling holo-program was proving to be a challenge for even the legendary Vulcan patience. Tuvok was not going to be lectured by the holographic illusion of a man.

"We were kidnapped by the Maquis. We are currently on our way back to the ship, but Voyager is surrounded by Cardassian soldiers." Tuvok interrupted.

"So why don't you come aboard? They are our allies after all." the hologram intervened.

"That, as it turns out, was a misconception."

"I see. In that case I shall deactivate myself."

"No, you must help us. We have no weapons, and we cannot get aboard without your assistance."

"Lieutenant, Starfleet Security Protocol 28, Subsection D states clearly, that in the event of hostile Alien takeover, the EMH is to deactivate and wait for rescue."

"I'm afraid you don't have that luxury. As you have already mentioned, the ship needs a crew, and you're it. We require your assistance."

"What? Have you lost your mind? I'm a doctor, not a commando!"

"Doctor, you said you monitored the crew all this time. Exactly what did you monitor?"

"Oh well, lifesigns, the usual. Then I got a little bored because no one was activating me as they were supposed to! So I checked around the ships systems. My program has communication links with all key areas of the ship. So I passed my time in cybernetic slumber by eavesdropping a little. I was beginning to think that this crew had nothing to say."

"Can you tie your program into the transporter controls and beam us aboard?"

There was a short period of silence. Apparently the only way of silencing the EMH was to give him something to think about., Tuvok made a mental note of it.

"Hmm... I can try to access my program's direct link to the main computer core. From there I may be able to initiate a transport. But I have no idea how to do that. I've been programmed with the medical knowledge of 47 physicians and two thousand medial references, but I'm not a transporter beam!"

The EMH actually sounded slighted.

"Doctor, as I recall you were also programmed with contingency options and adaptive programs. Consider this to be your field test. Adapt! Consult the transporter manual. As the only medical staff upon a starship you must be able to initiate an emergency transport of a patient. Try to lock onto my combadge and beam me aboard!"

There was another short stretch of silence before the indignant EMH answered.

"Well, this is great! First you treat me as if I don't exist, then you expect me to get you all out of this mess you got yourselves into, and on top of that you're trying to demote me to a transporter... Well, far be it from me to turn down an opportunity to become a hero. I'll see what I can do. Stand by!"

The doctor sighed exaggeratedly and began to look into the problem.

In the ventilation shaft the Starfleet crew held their breath. They were relying on the ingenuity of a holographic program. How weird was this mission going to get? Was there really any hope left for them? Were they clutching at straws?

A few minutes later, much to the relief of everyone, Tuvok's combadge chirped again.

"EMH to Lieutenant Tuvok."

"Tuvok here."

"I have studied the transporter manual and discovered a way to link my program to the transporter controls. Prepare to have your molecules scattered all over the place and then put together again!"

Obviously the doctor did not appreciate the foundations of transporter technology...

Tuvok did not bat an eyelid.

"Understood. Energize!"

The crew looked on as Tuvok disappeared in the blue tingle of Voyager's transporter beam.

The Vulcan appeared in Sickbay only to be greeted by a hyperactive EMH, who vigorously began to shake his hand.

"Ah, Lieutenant! I'm so glad to finally meet you in person. So, do I get a medal for this, or something? I hope the captain will enter this into the EMH field test log."

Tuvok had heard enough. He snatched his hand away. There was too much to do. No time for idle banter.

"Computer, deactivate EMH."

There was a short expression of protest on the doctor's face, then he disappeared.

Presently Tuvok sprinted to transporter room one, activating all essential ship systems via the computer on his way there. Then he proceeded to beam the remaining crewmembers out of the ventilation shaft. The procedure was slow. Only a maximum of 5 people could be transported safely at a time. When all the senior officers were back onboard, he delegated the transporter task to Lieutenant Rollins, giving orders to beam everyone who was not Cardassian out of the base and aboard Voyager.

It was easy enough. The remaining Maquis crew members and Tom Paris had been beamed out of the brig, now using transporter room 2 as well. Then all there was left in the base was a bunch of Cardassians. The Maquis were taken to Cargo Bay 2 and a security detail was issued there. All casualties, including Chakotay, were taken to sickbay.

Despite all their efforts one person was still missing. Captain Janeway was nowhere to be found. To discuss this matter Tuvok gathered the senior officers in the briefing room.

Carey, Kim and Stadi sat expectantly around the table, waiting for Tuvok to speak. The Vulcan remained standing.

"We have a problem. The captain is still missing..."

Tuvok was interrupted by yet another hail from the EMH.

"Ah, Lieutenant! How nice to hear your voice again."

"Doctor, we are rather busy here. Is this important?"

"I certainly think it is. The Maquis leader, Chakotay, wishes to speak to you about Captain Janeway. He says she's being held captive on one of the Cardassian ships."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow, and if Kim had not known better he would have thought that the Vulcan had actually been surprised.

"Understood. I'll be right there."


	16. Yesterday's Terrors Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Kathryn Janeway knew this was her only chance to save her own skin and prevent the murder of several hundred people, her crew and Chakotay among them. She certainly would not be wasting her time by getting changed. She got up from the bed and began to search Camet's quarters. There had to be something that could help her... a phaser or disruptor, a control panel, anything... But her efforts were fruitless. Camet was no fool. So she turned her attention towards the door panel. If she could at least get out of his quarters...

To her surprise the door opened as she approached it. At first she thought Camet had already returned, but then two Cardassian guards appeared in the doorway. The bastard had wanted her to think that she could get out, only to see her hopes crushed.

"Can we help you, little lady?" one of the guards sneered as he pushed his way through the door and towards her.

"I'm sure I heard Camet order you to get changed!"

"Maybe she requires a little assistance..." the other guard chimed in, as he also approached Kathryn, who was backing off.

"Get back to your posts, men!" another voice suddenly bellowed. "You'll be lucky if Camet doesn't blow you up with the asteroid for this indiscretion!"

The guards quickly returned to their posts.

Dunar entered the room, the door closing behind him. He approached Kathryn, who continued to back off.

"They were right. You should get into these clothes. You'd better get to it, if you value your life!" he barked.

Kathryn swallowed hard. She was no longer alone. Her chances of finding a way out of her predicament had just gone from pretty bad to impossible. Hesitantly she went back to the bed and picked up the silky garments.

"I guess it won't do much good to ask you to turn around while I'm getting changed."

To her utter surprise Dunar complied and turned his back to her. Then he spoke.

"I'm not here to replace those to idiots in front of that door. I'm here to negotiate."

Kathryn snorted in disbelief.

"Negotiate? What's there to negotiate?" she asked incredulously.

Dunar turned around to face her, despite the fact that she had not finished changing into the silky nightwear. He seemed unperturbed by that fact and kept his gaze purely to her face. There was no scorn in his eyes.

"The information I shall now give you is extremely confidential. If you as much as mention a word of what I'm about to tell you to anyone on this ship it will sign both our death warrants. Is that clear?"

Janeway nodded, still not quite sure what to think of all this.

"Please get changed while I'm talking. If Camet returns and you're not wearing that, I hesitate to think what he'll do to you."

"I won't do anything until I know what's going on."

"In that case, I shall have to leave you immediately."

Dunar walked towards the door. Kathryn waited until he had almost reached it, then she called out to him,

"Wait! Alright, but I want to know what's going on here."

Dunar returned and began his story whilst Kathryn opened the zipper to her dress.

"This is a time of great change for Cardassia. The Empire is on the brink of revolution. There is a powerful underground movement, which opposes the military dominance of our government. Cardassia is a police state, an empire ruled by the corrupt hand of a military dictatorship. Every step of every citizen is recorded by the military and the Obsidian Order. They are the groups that truly rule the Empire. But there are people who want that to change. These people live in constant fear of their lives. Their government regards them as dangerous terrorists who ought to be silenced by any means necessary, including murder. I am one of these reformists. I have been sent by the underground movement to spy on Camet and to remove him. However, I believe that my true agenda has been discovered by certain members of the Obsidian Order. They'll let me complete this mission, but then I will no doubt be killed. I have family in the DMZ, a wife and two children. They will no doubt be tortured and killed for what I have done. I am willing to help you and your crew escape, even destroy these three ships, if the Federation agrees to grand my family and myself asylum."

Kathryn attempted to take all of this surprising information in. There was no sign that Dunar was lying. He seemed to be sincere in his request for asylum. But could she afford to trust him? She was in an extremely precarious situation. What if he were simply toying with her? He might just be trying to incriminate her, so as to give the Obsidian Order a legitimate reason to arrest and try her. However, if Dunar was to be trusted than this could be her only chance of escape. She had no choice but to take what he had said for face value. Carefully she answered,

"Well, I can't speak for the Federation Council, but I will grant you asylum aboard Voyager. I'm sure if we explain your situation to the council they may be persuaded to help. But how do you suppose to help us?"

Footsteps were approaching the door.

Dunar pulled a sharp knife out of one of his heavy military boots.

"Here! Hide that somewhere. It's all I can do to help you right now..."

Kathryn glared at the dagger. Could he not give her a phaser? She would never be able to kill a person with that thing. The mere thought of sticking it into someone's body made her shudder. As the footsteps halted in front of the door she reluctantly accepted Dunar's offer of help, walked over to the bed and hid the weapon under the sheets.

She had barely concealed it when Camet entered, a little surprised to see Dunar in his quarters.

"Dunar, what are you doing here?"

"The guards were getting a little restless and tried to touch your hostage. I thought it best to stay with her in order to make sure they did not lay hands on her. She also had been up to no good. She was trying to escape when the guards entered. I simply made sure she obeyed your orders."

"How very considerate of you! I may just have to give you a promotion when we get back to Cardassia Prime! Well done, Dunar. Now, leave us. And take her dress with you while you're at it. Destroy it. She wont be needing it anymore..."

Dunar did as told, turned on his heals and left the room in crisp military strides.

Camet ordered the computer to play some soft Cardassian music. For alien music made for alien ears Kathryn found it strangely intoxicating. Then Camet went to a small cabinet and took out two short glasses and a bottle of kanar.

Kathryn walked over to one of the arched viewports near the bed, gazing out at the stars and the asteroid below the vessel, hoping that Dunar would initiate whatever plan he had before Camet blew up the asteroid.

She heard him approach her at the viewport and suppressed a shudder. Her robe was pulled tightly around her, since the negligee he had replicated for her was a little more revealing then the one Mark had given her. With horror she felt his breath on her neck as he sniffed her hair in a primeval gesture.

Tentatively she turned, only to have a glass of kanar shoved into her hand.

"Here! Drink up! Lets get in the mood!"

Kathryn reluctantly rose the glass to her nose and sniffed its contents. She had of course heard of kanar, but she had never tasted it before. It had a sharp smell to it. Tentatively she took a sip, and instantly pulled a face. It was disgusting. The drink left her throat burning as if it were pure fire. It was obviously very high in alcohol, and left an aftertaste that reminded her of petroleum.

Camet laughed.

"It takes a little getting used to."

Then his features became stern.

"Drink it all!"

Kathryn held her breath and downed the drink, suppressing the shudder that crept up her spine, only to have Camet fill up her glass a second time.

"Again!" he barked.

She did as he asked.

No sooner had she finished that he snatched the empty glass out of her hand and threw it together with his own against the bulkhead, where it smashed noisily. Kathryn jumped a little at his crude demonstration of violence, but quickly caught herself.

Camet then pulled her to him with one arm around her waist. The hand of the other arm began a slow journey from her face to her waist. Abruptly she felt herself pressed against the bulkhead behind her. Seconds later Camet's mouth covered hers. Kathryn held her breath in revulsion. She could not imagine being violated by him. Never would she allow this. She had to get to the bed... had to get her hands on the dagger...

Camet hands now roamed every inch of her body through the soft material of the garments she wore. He had pressed her so tightly into the bulkhead that she could barely breathe. Then his hands began to unfasten her robe. She could not stand his hands on her any longer and began to fight back with all her might. Punching and kicking she tried to push him off her, but it was a hopeless struggle. The robe fell off her shoulders and landed in a pool of silk at her bare feet. Right then she managed to pull her knee up and aim it right at his groin. Camet jumped back and doubled over, his face distorted in a grimace of pain. He lifted his hand as if to strike her, but just before the hand impacted with her face he stopped it in midair.

"Oh no! Lets leave that for later. I'll enjoy your beauty before I destroy it."

He grabbed her by both arms and flung her onto the bed behind him. Then he was on top of her again, but this time his hands actually made contact with her skin as he pushed the nightgown tantalizingly slow up her legs, his rough hands enjoying the feel of the soft skin that was revealed. He bent down again to force his mouth onto her, one hand rising ever higher up her leg, the other roaming over her upper body. Kathryn's mind was reeling, her hands desperately searching for the dagger. His hand had reached mid-thigh and was rapidly moving further. There! She grabbed the knife and stabbed it blindlessly into the monster of a man who loomed above her like a predator. Camet immediately went rigid, a look of surprise on his face, his eyes beginning to fill with fury. Then he collapsed on top of her, the bulk of his enormous body immobilizing her, pushing the air out of her lungs. Kathryn's hand was still clutching the dagger that was now deeply embedded in Camet's chest. A warm fluid began to run from it onto her right hand and then spreading further onto her own chest. She had to move, get him off her. Kathryn could not breathe. She was trapped under Camet, and no matter how hard she tried it seemed impossible to push him off her. It took her what felt like an eternity to get free. Then she finally managed to role away and lay gasping on the bed, trying to catch her breath, her eyes closed, faced flushed.

When her eyes opened again she saw in horror that she was covered in the man's blood. Her negligee was soaked, her hands and arms covered with it. It was enough of a shock to make her jump off the bed. Revolted she tore the negligee from herself and wiped the blood from her skin with one of the bedspreads, all the while fighting the urge to retch. Then she quickly covered her shivering body with the robe.

Suddenly the sound of Cardassian alert claxons blurted deafeningly through the room.

After Chakotay had informed Tuvok of Janeway's precarious position aboard the Tokar Zebok, the Vulcan had immediately ordered for Voyager to get ready to engage the Cardassians. Engines were powered up, and Tuvok was just about to leave sickbay and return to the bridge when Chakotay's hand grabbed his arm.

"Wait, I need to be there!"

"Captain Chakotay, you are in no state to go anywhere right now, and you are officially a prisoner of the Federation. I will handle the situation."

"I have fought plenty of Cardassians in the past year. I might be of strategical use to you up there!"

Tuvok frowned. He hated to admit it, but Chakotay had a point.

The Vulcan shot the EMH a questioning glance.

"Doctor?"

"He's as good as new. An impressive example of my medical expertise, if I might add..."

"Come!"

The Vulcan and the Native American sprinted out of sickbay before the doctor had a chance to finish his sentence.

In the docking bay of the Maquis base things were turning chaotic.

The lights of the stationary ship they had been guarding for hours suddenly came to life. The Cardassian guards around Voyager ducked for safety as the mighty engines of the ship whirled up everything in the vessels vicinity. One of them tried to contact Camet, but the radiation from the engines caused too much interference to establish communications between the interior of the asteroid and the Tokar Zebok. The Cardassians managed to scramble out of the docking bay before the doors into space opened, barely avoiding a horrible death in the vacuum of space. Voyager slowly left the bay.

"Sir, I'm reading three Cardassian Galor Class warships on the other side of the asteroid." Harry Kim announced.

"Do you read human lifesigns on any of them, Ensign?"

"Yes, there is one on the largest of the three ships, Sir."

"Can you get a lock on it?"

"I should be able to. Their shields are down..."

"I guess they weren't expecting company...", Stadi added.

"I've got a lock on the human lifesign."

"Beam her to sickbay!" Chakotay barked passionately.

Harry threw a questioning glance at Tuvok.

"Sir, her lifesigns are stable."

"Alright Ensign, beam her to transporter room 2." Tuvok responded.

"Transport complete, Sir."

"Raise the shields."

"Yes, Sir."

Tuvok's combadge chirped.

"Janeway to Bridge."

All eyes were on Tuvok now.

"Captain, it's good to hear your voice."

"It's good to be back. I'm on my way to the bridge. What's our status?"

"All systems are functioning within established parameters. All crewmembers are accounted for with the exception of Commander Cavit, who was shot by the Cardassians. All surviving Maquis members and Mr. Paris are also onboard and confined to cargo bay 2, with the exception of Captain Chakotay who has joined us on the bridge. I found it prudent to have him here, should we engage the Cardassians. He has plenty of experience in battle with them."

At that moment the turbo lift opened to reveal a disheveled Kathryn Janeway clad in nothing but a silk robe.

"Good job, everyone. Nice to see you all again. Ensign Kim, hail Starfleet Command and get me Admiral Nechayev, now! Make it clear that this is a matter of the highest urgency. I'll take in my ready room."

She threw a quick look at Chakotay, then wordlessly disappeared into her ready room. No one would ever know what exactly she said to Admiral Alynna Nechayev, but whatever it was, it must have been pretty convincing.

Not five minutes later she returned to the bridge, now wearing a uniform, which she had replicated and changed into whilst talking to the admiral. She appeared not the slightest bit shaken by her experience on the Tokar Zebok, an adventure the crew could only speculate on.

"Mr. Tuvok, go to red alert. Janeway to Paris!"

"Captain, nice to hear your voice!"

"Mr. Paris, please come to the bridge at once. I need you at the helm."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Ensign Kim, hail the Tokar Zebok!"

"Aye, Captain!"

Seconds later a man whom Kathryn Janeway had gotten to know less than an hour ago addressed them all.

"This is Dunar, second in command of the Tokar Zebok. You killed our captain. We will destroy you!"

Kathryn glared at the man on her viewscreen.

"I'm afraid we won't be able to accommodate you right now, but I'm certain we will meet again, very soon."

She turned her attention to the helm.

"Mr. Paris, lay in a course for Deep Space Nine."

"Captain, don't you intend to engage the Cardassians?"

"We have orders to return to Deep Space Nine immediately. Take us out of here Mr. Paris. Maximum warp! Engage!"

Then she turned to the Maquis captain who stood on the upper level of the bridge amidst two Starfleet security guards.

"Chakotay, a word alone in my ready room."

"Captain, I insist that a security detail joins you." Voyager's chief of security took position between the Maquis and his captain.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Tuvok. Or will it?"

She threw a meaningful glance at the Maquis captain, who shook his head. Silently Tuvok stepped aside and Chakotay followed Kathryn into the ready room.

"Kathryn! I'm glad to see you're all right. But what the hell is going on here? Why didn't you engage the Cardassians?"

"Have a seat, Chakotay..."

Reluctantly he complied.

Kathryn wrung her hands on the desk in front of her, uncertain how to begin. Finally she said,

"Chakotay, you and your cell are now prisoners of the Federation."

"What? After all you've seen? After all you've been through with the Cardassians? You can't seriously still believe that they are honoring the treaty..."

Janeway lifted a hand to silence him.

"Chakotay, you'll be taken to Deep Space Nine. Starfleet command cannot ignore the fact that you've damaged Federation property during your time in the DMZ. However, they are offering you a deal. All the charges against you and the members of your cell will be dropped if you agree to help us expose the Cardassians one more time. I have intelligence that Cardassia is close to a political turn over. The Federation cannot afford to go into war with Cardassia, so we have orders to help the members of the underground movement to gain power. It's a unique opportunity to forge a lasting alliance with the Empire. I will be in charge of the mission, and we could use some experienced people to help us. I suggested you and your people, and Admiral Nechayev agreed. What do you say?"

Admiral Nechayev agreed... Chakotay thought.. and pigs might fly...

Just about everyone in Starfleet knew Nechayev to be one of the most relentlessly unforgiving admirals there had ever been. She was a rule sticker. It did not sound at all like her to agree to such a gung-ho plan. Nechayev offering him and his cell a way out? What the hell had Kathryn compromised to achieve this? No matter how tempting the offer, he had to be sure he could accept it. He had to be absolutely certain that there were no strings attached, that justice would be served.

"What about our homeworlds? Will we get them back?"

"Hopefully the new government will honor the treaty. The Federation will keep a watchful eye this time around. If they are discovered to be in breach of the treaty again, Starfleet will offer their support."

Chakotay sat pensively for a while, rubbing his chin in thought. Finally he looked up and spoke,

"Alright. Of course I'll have to speak to my cell, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm with you, Kathryn."

She gave him a heartfelt smile, then rose from her desk and stated tiredly,

"Alright, lets get the hell out of here."

She was already walking towards the door to the bridge when he called,

"Kathryn..."

"Yes?"

She turned around to face him.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to tell me what happened aboard the Tokar Zebok?"

"I have an awful lot of work to do, Chakotay..."

It did not take a genius to realize that she was avoiding the topic. Chakotay was not going to give into her though. He cared too much about her. He had seen her almost break in the tunnels, when she first heard Camet's voice. He was not about to let that happen to her again. She would have to deal with her experiences, and he would to everything in his power to help her.

"Alright, then how about I'll tell you what the members of my cell think about the deal the Federation is offering over dinner tonight on DS9?"

"I'm sorry, I'll be too busy planning the mission."

"Then I won't leave this room until you've told me what happened."

Kathryn stared at him incredulously.

"Are you going to make me call security?"

"Are you going to make me teach you a lesson again?"

His voice was taking on a threatening tone that she was only too familiar with. However, she was not about to be intimidated by him on her own ship.

"That's quite enough, Captain Chakotay. You're dismissed. If you haven't left this room in three seconds I will call security."

She was just about to tap her combadge when Chakotay snatched it from her.

"I don't think so, Kathryn."

She was pushed into the wall behind her chair.

"DON'T!"

Tears were beginning to shine in her now wide eyes, threatening to spill over. Chakotay softly stroked her cheek with the fingers of his right hand, and the tears began to spill. He picked her up and carried her to the couch.

"Hush, Kathryn. It's all right now. You're safe. But you can't keep this bottled up inside yourself. All I ask is that you stop being the captain for an hour or two tonight and tell me what happened. Don't you know by now how much I care about you?"

Kathryn wiped at her tears and disengaged herself from him. Then she locked eyes with him and simply stared for several minutes, not saying a word. Chakotay felt as if her gaze went right through to his brain. It was as if she were probing for something. Finally she answered his question.

"Yes. I think I do."

Then she pulled his head down to her and kissed him very briefly, but gently.

"20:00 hours, my quarters?" she asked with a smirk on her face.

"Yes, Ma'am." Chakotay grinned and left.

**_THE END  
To be continued in      "The Evil That Breeds Within"_**


End file.
